Untitled Hook Belle Time Travel Curse Story
by LotornoMiko
Summary: AU story where instead of wiping her memories and identity, the curse sends Belle back in time, to Neverland's past, and straight into a certain pirate's path. Can she navigate the treacherous elements of Neverland, and avoid causing a paradox and letting her heart become intertwined with Hook's? Will she ever get back to Storybrooke, and will she even want to by thetimethisplayout
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer Time! I do not own Once Upon A Time or it's characters. Nor do I make any money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.

-Michelle

It was a lonely stretch of road the car traveled upon, nothing around for miles in either direction save for the trees of the forest. They crowded both sides of the pavement, as if the forest itself was attempting to take back the land, starting with this very road. A sign in the distance had leafy branches eating at it's metal, the words just barely readable when the car's headlights passed over it's front.

Now leaving Storybrooke, the sign warned, the car beginning to slow to a stop. The subtle noise of the tires, the purr of the engine, and the whistle of the wind was the only sounds to break up the uncomfortable silence inside the car. A silence Belle herself was at fault for, the woman barely able to mumble out forced replies to Rumplestiltskin's attempt at chatter. All too soon, the man had taken the hint, leaving Belle to her own private thoughts.

Her thoughts weren't particularly happy this night, Belle finding herself troubled. The man sitting beside her was the source of much of that trouble, Belle left to think and worry, and try to understand all that had happened on this, a most eventful day, which included not only his present actions, but that of his past. Never a shining example of the good and just in their world, Belle had still always tried to believe in the best side of Rumplestiltskin. Tried to see what others did not. The good that offset the bad, the man behind the monster. She couldn't at all claim it had been easy, especially at the start of their association. Not when she had been his prisoner, a veritable slave forced to do his bidding in return for the aid he had given her kingdom. Back then she had been frightened of him, and doubted often the wisdom of her self sacrifice, for he had been mean if not to her, then to others, as vicious and as cruel as she had expected a monster to be when guarding his possessions.

The blood that had spilled never truly forgotten, Belle wondered now when she had begun to excuse Rumplestiltskin for his misdeeds. Was it when he had spared that thief and his family, or was it when Rumplestiltskin had stopped having Belle clean up the blood of his victims? Had the kindness Rumplestiltskin had shown her, blinded Belle to all that had gone on? Was she allowing herself to be willfully ignorant of his true nature as a coping mechanism that went hand in hand with her love for him?

No longer certain of anything where she and Rumplestiltskin were concerned, Belle could only worry and over think the days events. Everything from the pirate who had chased her about the library, to the revelations forced upon her, to Rumplestiltskin's own behavior. Worrying inside, in private, for she hadn't the courage to ask Rumplestiltskin if it was true. If he had really murdered his wife in cold blood.

Feeling like a coward for she feared the answer was yes, Belle could only sit there in that awkward silence, the uncomfortable feeling maintained between them. Wondering about the lies, remembering the violence, and the honest pain gleaming in the pirate's eyes. It had been more than just his hand lost, and it had been about more than Baelfire's shawl being stolen. There was an ugly, painful history between the pirate and Rumplestiltskin, and it both hurt and terrified Belle that she hadn't learned the truth of it from him.

Hurting and frightened, Belle couldn't bring herself to admit to Rumplestiltskin what the pirate Hook had told her. She couldn't bring herself to ask for his side of the story, and yet neither could she forget Hook's either. The pirate Hook had done his damage well, planting seeds of doubt and mistrust in Belle. She felt sick, scared of the man besides her, scared of what he'd do, what she'd do, if Hook's words really did prove to be true.

True or not, she couldn't stop the echo of them, the memory of the raw hurt, and vicious anger in which Hook had spoken them with. The pain in his eyes, the tremble of his lips pulling back in a snarl, as the pirate had told her in no uncertain terms how Mila had been killed, murdered by her own husband. Something like panic had filled her then, a terrified reaction to what had to be lie, she hadn't thought her heart could take it if Hook had been speaking the truth.

But the more she denied it, the more she shouted at him no, the more Hook had insisted it as the truth. Leaving Belle the one shaking, her eyes blinking back the tears that had sprung instantly to her eyes. She had felt frightened then, not of the pirate who had seemed the immediate threat, but of the idea that he was telling her the truth. And on the heels of that new fright, Belle had remembered earlier in the day, of how she had asked Rumplestiltskin about what had happened to his wife, and the awkward side stepping that had followed.

It had been clear even then that Rumplestiltskin was evading her questions, hiding something important from her. But Belle had so wanted to believe, she had grasped for what little he did say. Not so much lying to herself, as refusing to even consider that Rumplestiltskin could have had a direct hand in Mila's death, to hear Hook accuse him, had in effect gut Belle whole.

It wasn't a complete hollowing out though. She wasn't empty inside, though it felt as though all her positivity and hope had fled in the face of her fear and anger. And yes Belle was angry, wondering if she was a fool for having believed in Rumplestiltskin for so long, angry at the pirate for breaking apart the blissful ignorance she had been wrapping herself in. Most of all, Belle was angry at herself for not having the courage to demand answers from Rumplestiltskin. It didn't matter that she was afraid, that he might be a murderer, Belle was letting Hook win through her inability to act, to ask a simple question of whether or not it was true.

The words lodged firmly in her throat, Belle knew that Rumplestiltskin had to suspect something had happened. But HIS questions weren't coming any more than hers, the man perhaps just as frightened as Belle of what must be said, and of what Hook might have told her. So they sat in silent impasse, staring out of the front windshield of Rumplestiltskin's car. The shawl, the ever important catalyst of today's crushing events, lay on the seat between them. As precious an item as it was to the man she harbored complex feelings for, Rumplestiltskin still made no move to touch the shawl. Not with his hands gripping the wheel, fingers clenched so tight, it was a strangle hold.

Seeing Rumplestiltskin so tense, agitated Belle further in turn. Were his questions about to start? Were HERS? Would she be able to stop her fears from being voiced? Would she still be able to see the good inside him? Would Belle still be able to claim in honesty that she still loved Rumplestiltskin? And then her fingers clenched on her lap, Belle fighting to hold still, to not so much as allow a betraying quiver to go through her. But it was too late, she was scared, her love knowing doubt for the first time in ages.

"Belle." At last the silence broken, Rumplestiltskin following her name with a drawn out sigh. The weary weight of his troubles was in that sound, the man no more relishing what HAD to be said than she. They were both acting as cowards, had been since the moment Belle had drawn Rumplestiltskin off the pirate's ship. They had had hours since then, to talk, to question, to comfort and reassure one another, and yet neither had so much as tried.

"I...did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine." Belle said, glancing sidelong at Rumplestiltskin. His jaw clenched in response, Rumplestiltskin maintaining his straight ahead stare.

"That's not what I asked." His voice seemed to resonate with his effort to control his anger, Rumplestiltskin perhaps imagining the worst. His grip on the wheel went white knuckled, and at her gasp, Rumplestiltskin finally looked her way. Seeing her fright, he expelled another long breath, but didn't let go of the wheel. "I'm sorry Belle." He said to her. "I just wish you had let me finish him off."

"It's over." Belle told him. "If Hook is at all smart, he'll leave Storybrooke as ordered. You'll never have to worry about him again."

"It's not him I am worried about." Rumplestiltskin said, and finally let go of the wheel. "Belle I..."

Somehow Belle managed to hold herself still, as Rumplestiltskin took hold of one of her hands. "I don't know what I'd do if I had lost you."

The words spoken made her nauseous, Belle giving him a weak ghost of a smile. "But you haven't."

The look he gave her was searching, as if Rumplestiltskin was trying to see into her very soul. Whatever Rumplestiltskin did see didn't exactly comfort him, the man nodding slowly, as though coming to a decision. Belle had to remember to breathe, wondering if the truth would be spoken, if their love could survive it.

"There's a lot we need to talk about." He said to her. Belle could only give an uncertain nod, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes as she waited for Rumplestiltskin to continue. "And we will...eventually...But Belle. I am asking you now, to still believe in me please."

Another searching look, and his voice took on a pleading note to it. "I'm still the man you fell in love with."

"Yes, you are." She agreed out loud. But inside, Belle no longer felt as though she knew who that really was. "And you're right. We do need to talk. About everything."

"Everything." But that seemed to make him flinch, Rumplestiltskin fearing the truth as much as Belle did.

As uncertain as she now was, Belle couldn't not take pity on him, giving Rumplestiltskin's hand a squeeze. "It'll be okay..."

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head, overcome with emotion. "I nearly lost everything today thanks to that pirate." He brought their hands to the shawl on the seat, the rough texture of the wool scratching against her skin. "If not for you, Belle..."

"I know how much this shawl means to you." Belle interrupted. "It's your once chance to find your son after so many years. How could I not act to save it?"

"I'm not just talking about the shawl."

"I know." Was her simple answer back. "But all that matters right now is finding your son." She pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing his protest as the first of her tears worked their way free. "We do have to talk. But that can wait."

Maybe it was the coward's way to wait on this. But maybe just maybe, with time they'd both figure out what to say, how to handle the truth together, and what outcome it might ultimately lead them to. Maybe Rumplestiltskin would handle things better, maybe Belle would, maybe she need not fear his rage. Maybe Rumplestiltskin would have finally learned to let go of the things, the people, he viewed as his.

Her head filled with the many maybes to be had, Belle couldn't stop the doubt that curled through her stomach, the uncertain voice that whispered in her head. Because it was now a lot easier to see the darkness inside Rumplestiltskin eating at whatever sparks of goodness she had always stubbornly clung to the belief of.

As much as she had questions for the man beside her, the hows and whys of what had really happened to his wife fell to the side in the face of the questions Belle had been loathe to ask herself. The questions that had her wondering if she could truly love a murderer, if she could trust him, stay with him, and above all come away with her life intact regardless of what Belle ultimately decided to do. She feared the answers because Belle now feared the man, Hook's voice a sly whisper in her ear, asking her why she thought she'd be any different from all the others. The people who had left Rumplestiltskin, the ones who had walked away, and the ones that had been killed.

The sick feeling never gone for long, Belle drew back her hand. Rumplestiltskin's own eyes looked pained, and Belle could only guess at what thoughts ran through his own head. Probably nothing worse than the thoughts she was having, Belle reminding herself it was the ultimate in acts of trust to go with him, a man whose actions she now feared, to a place far removed from any who would hear a cry for help.

Hating that she had that thought, that she had let Hook poison the relationship that she had had with Rumplestiltskin, Belle fumbled with the car door. By the time she got it open, and stepped onto the pavement of the roar, Belle had her face under control. Her own deep breaths accompanied her to the very edge of the curse's boundary, the red paint sprayed across it in a thick line. One more step, and it would be the end of her, her memories gone, her very identity wiped out as Belle was replaced by whoever the curse would have her be.

There was a slight temptation to step over, to embrace the purity of an existence that would forget what she had learned this day. But Belle wasn't about to quit on herself, or hand Hook so complete a victory. She'd find a way to cope, a way to deal with the truth, whatever it really was. And maybe someday she'd be able to not only forgive Rumplestiltskin, but herself for letting her love doubt for even a moment.

The fear of it, of the truth and of Rumplestiltskin's nature at hand, was one she had to confront. They both had to, if they were ever going to move on from it. But it wouldn't be today, the fear too strong, the courage fleeing them both. The tip tap of Rumplestiltskin's cane on the pavement was a slow steady contrast to the fast thumping beat of Belle's heart, the woman turning towards the man. He had the shawl in his hand, the buttery yellow wool preserved by magic so as not to have fallen to the ravages of time.

Wordlessly, Belle took the shawl from Rumplestiltskin, and a vial was produced from one of his coat's pockets. It was a slim container, with a bright blue liquid that didn't look nearly magical enough for what it was about to do.

Giving her his own version of a forced smile, Rumplestiltskin's anxiety showed in his eyes. He was nervous, but his hand didn't so much as shake or waste one drop of the potion. And as the liquid soaked into the center of the shawl, a magical glow accompanied it, the blue spreading, covering the entire length of the shawl. Belle felt the tingles in her hands, the magic touching even her.

"Is that it?" She asked out loud, glancing up from the shawl. "Has it worked?"

"Only one way to find out." Rumplestiltskin bowed his head, giving Belle the honor of placing the shawl around his neck and shoulders. She did so, smoothing her hands down the length of one end, and more tears came unbidden to her eyes.

"Good luck." Belle said, and meant it. The sincerity sensed in her words had Rumplestiltskin smile for real, the man briefly caressing the back of his fingers over her right cheek. Belle covered his hand, closed her eyes for one moment, then let go as Rumplestiltskin stepped over the boundary of the curse.

The touch of magic was around them, Belle so close to the edge, she felt the wind of it lift up her hair, and rustle her clothing. She snapped open her eyes, saw Rumplestiltskin take two uncertain steps forward, clearly looking around. His name was on the tip of her tongue, Belle holding both her breath and her voice quiet, bearing witness to whatever might happen next.

Rumplestiltskin turned, looked at her with his head tilted to the side, as though he was struggling to remember. Then their eyes met, and his face broke out into a delighted smile, Rumplestiltskin pointing a finger at her with a laugh. "Belle!"

"It worked then?" She asked, keeping on her side of the marked boundary.

"More than worked." Rumplestiltskin looked happier than he had all day, quickly stepping closer to her. "I remember everything!"

"That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you, Rumple." Belle said, taking his hand when his expression sobered.

"Belle I wish you could come with me..."

"I know Rumple, I know." Belle said. "But you'll be back once you've found your son."

"And you Belle?" Another of his soul searching looks. "You'll be waiting for me?"

"I...of course." She said with a bow of her head so that her hair fell forward to hide her face. It was at that precise moment that a loud shot of sound rang out, the thunderous punctuation to her agreement. Belle wanted to turn and look around, but it all happened so fast, first the sound, and then the pain, her body jerking forward as though pushed by some unseen force's momentum. She didn't even have time to look up at Rumplestiltskin, her mouth frozen on a shocked scream.

"Belle!" She heard Rumplestiltskin scream, his arms going around her, trying to break her fall. But she was falling too fast, bringing him down with her, and Belle couldn't remember where the boundary was, and which side she was going to land on.

"Belle! Belle!" She heard Rumplestiltskin repeatedly scream, his voice almost drowning out that of another's. The pirate, Hook, the snarl in his words as he growled from somewhere behind her.

"I wouldn't count on it."

Feeling her hands tingle in what she assumed was anticipation of hitting the pavement, Belle was shocked when she fell right through it instead. She managed a scream, seeing endless black around her, feeling wisps of what Belle thought might be clouds, and seeing a bright moon that was far too full for the one that had shown in Storybrooke. Scared and confused, Belle had only seconds to think before she hit water, the cold embrace of some sea swallowing her up whole.

To Be Continued...

So...*twiddles thumbs* Okay so I haven't written ANYTHING In three months. I kept getting sick, and then it was incredibly hard to get back into writing, to even get motivated. I had this particular idea first when I was sick with strep throat...or maybe it was the sinus infection. But I was too sick to try to write it. I wanted to write something for my existing stories first, but this story's set up won't leave my head, to the point it's distracting me from other stories. So I wanted to get the set up written, and then hopefully update something else, like Trade off or something.

I also feel incredibly rusty at writing. X_X

-Michelle


	2. Chapter 2

The water was an ice cold shock to her senses, it's near freezing temperature immediately apparent. Belle's whole body went rigid, the flesh itself prickling in reaction. The clothing Belle wore? Good for little, her jacket and tights only just a little thicker in fabric than the rest of her thin layered clothing.

Cold beyond belief, it was pure self preserving instinct that had Belle kick out her legs, and flail her arms about. A mistake on one hand, for the pain in her shoulder immediately flared stronger, causing Belle to hunch in on herself before the pain had time to chase away the worst of her shock. And with shock gone, panic then followed, Belle flailing everything but her injured arm, seeming to spin in endless turns that accomplished nothing but to leave her completely disoriented.

She was unable to tell up from down, unable to see much further than a few feet in front of her. The water was dark, and there was no sign of the full moon she had glimpsed during her fall. Belle had no idea what direction to try to travel in, if she was near the surface, or if there was danger near. Belle only knew that she was sinking, and that her arm not only hurt terribly, it was steadily bleeding out into the water around her.

As panicked and disoriented as she was, there were a few alarming facts that were repeating in her mind. Without any light to guide her, she might end up swimming further away from the surface then towards it. Her lungs were already close to bursting with their need for air, and three, that her blood would attract predators quickly underwater. Her poor heart beat out a frantic tempo, Belle trying not to think about the many types of carnivores that could be lurking just within reach in the darkness around her.

And then sound intruded in her awareness, something other than the muffled distortion in her ears. The sound very similar to that of a whale, or at least what Belle hoped was a whale, and the answering moan of something even closer. She kicked out again when that something brushed a fin against her side, nearly screamed as something else prodded against her bleeding shoulder. Then came to a decision, Belle choosing a direction with a prayer that it was the right one, and swimming as best she could, given her injury.

A large shadow passed over head, darkening her surroundings completely. Belle stilled in the water, fearing some man eater had at last come to investigate the scent of her blood. She couldn't believe this was how her story would end, that she would end up a feast for some monster of the deep.

But the killing bite never came. Instead, something wrapped around her, some coarse fibers she couldn't break free of, Belle finding herself scooped up and dragged through the waters. She couldn't see anything now, but she could hear, the great groaning moan of some under sea creature, more than one judging by the cacophony that rose in a great angry protest as Belle was dragged out of their reach.

Belle was almost uncomprehending when she broke through the surface, the great fishing net she found herself tangled in continuing to draw her upwards. The full moon Belle had spied earlier, was all but hidden by thick clouds, the sea as dark from above as it had been in it's embrace. She couldn't spy any land so to speak of, but that wasn't saying much given how black a night it was. So black, it made the details of the ship impossible to see, her net starting to spin, twisting this way and that way, and adding to Belle's nauseous feeling.

Higher she was hauled, the net's passage giving her a brief glimpse inside one of the ship's portholes. Candle lit lamps didn't light the room enough, or maybe Belle was simply too in shock to pick out any one detail, let alone twenty. Below her she saw a large fin crest the water, and above her and slightly to the right was the voices of men. They were shouting, or one man in particular was, his harassing voice sounding oddly familiar though Belle had yet to place it.

"Put your backs into it men!" The voice was screaming. "Or the captain will have your heads!"

Grumbling followed that scream, the men not at all shy about voicing their displeasure to a point. The net kept on turning, and then it was high enough to clear the railing of the ship. Spinning faster, Belle caught sight of a man in the shadows, his arms extending towards her. Something wickedly curved caught on one of the net's loops, a hook of some kind being used to draw Belle towards him. She was almost in his arms, when the ship rocked from the violent force of something hitting it's side.

"Mermaids!" Came the shout, and Belle was none too gently deposited on the floor, still caught in the net.

"All hands to your positions!" Came the answering cry, followed by the thunderous sounds of men's heavy footsteps pounding on the wooden planks of the ship. Through the fall of wet hair, and the loops of the net she was completely tangled in, Belle spied the shadowy figures of men running about the ship. An open hatch had even more of the sailors emerging from below deck, steel and iron tipped harpoons clutched in many a hands' grasp.

A loud thunk of something had Belle trying to turn in it's direction, a heavy black cannon ball rolling past with no effort being made to stop it. It's loss didn't matter, there were plenty more being lifted and primed into the cannons, by three strong men whose arms bulged with muscles. A brief spark of flame that wasn't enough to properly light her surroundings, the fire eating at it's wick as the cannons were aimed at the water. Belle actually screamed at the loud shot of sound that followed, the heavy wet rope of the net keeping her from lifting her tired arms up to clamp hands over her ears.

The noise of the cannons already too much for her, Belle heard the shouts of the men, the sound of many creatures letting out a moaning song that held an ethereal note to it that hadn't been apparent under water. It was a beautiful ANGRY song, and it was terrifying to hear, even safe aboard a ship that was rocking violently as the seas around it churned continuously.

It made footing slippery, water slapping over the sides of the railing, and onto the deck. Many of the sailors had tethered themselves with rope as thick, if not thicker than that of the netting Belle found herself caught in. They gripped the rail with one hand, their other busy with the harpoons. Stabbing them in a downwards motion, the men cursing, yelling, their snarled out words lost amidst the cannon fire and the sea creatures' song.

A figure ran by her, Belle shifting about as best she could to see the shadow of a man reaching the ship's steer. He was shouting something too, and Belle didn't need light to know he was struggling with the turning of that great wheel. The ship's own protest was added to the booming sounds, the groan of it's weight as it was forced to begin a turn. Somewhere, a man abandoned the railing, rushing instead to unfurl more sail. That immediately caught the wind's fancy, the sails filling out, giving the ship a much needed boost in speed.

The song didn't end, but it was distorted by the angry shrieks of what sounded like women. That sound would follow them for what Belle thought was miles, before fading as one by one, the creatures abruptly gave up the chase. And with the receding of the song, and the end of the cannon fire, other sound trickled into Belle's consciousness now. The men breathing a sigh of relief that no one had been lost this time. The remaining cannon balls' metal thunking, as they were returned to their barrel holder. The wind whistling though the night, the much gentler sound of a sea that was now tranquil. And finally, the sound of feet approaching her, Belle's heart not losing it's frantic beat, her thoughts just as wild and panicked as before, not to mention confused. Because she didn't know where she was, didn't know what had happened to her exactly. But Belle was certain she had heard the word mermaids being shouted, and the woman knew no such creature existed in the waters of Storybrooke's harbor.

There was no time to wonder, to truly think and consider what was happening to her. Not with the blood loss and her fright working against her, Belle pale skinned and woozy. She no longer had the strength to move, to try and free herself from the net. She simply lay where she had been left, and blinked up at the man who now stood over her. Another man stood at his back, a lamp in hand as the pair looked down at Belle. She didn't recognize either one, but then she hadn't expected to. Nor did Belle expect the soft curse that followed, or the large dagger that was drawn out of a scabbard on the man's thigh.

But she wasn't immediately cut free of the net. The men were looking at her with a mixture of excitement and suspicion, and something Belle could have almost sworn was hope. She didn't understand any of those things, at least not in relation to her.

"Help me." She tried to demand, but it came out a whispered croak. If they understood her, the men didn't show it, the pair studying her for longer than Belle liked. She liked it even less, when she was prodded with the tip of the dagger, the blade none too gentle as it dug into her injured shoulder.

"It bleeds." One said, as both men peered at the blood on the dagger's point.

"The blood, it's red...you know what this means...?"

"Aye." Agreed the one with the lamp, and there was an oddly triumphant quality to the sound of his words. "She's real."

"Real..." whispered the one holding the dagger, and then both men's attention whipped from it to Belle's face. But it didn't linger there long, the men doing a slow, presumptuous look over of Belle's body. Too pale to manage a blush of any kind, Belle still felt angry not to mention confused by these men's actions.

"Help..." This time her demand died down in a gasp, the dagger being inserted into one of the net's loops, and violently, viciously jerked upwards. The action was repeated, the second man setting down the lamp, to draw his own knife from his belt. Aided by it, the two men worked to cut Belle free of the net, leaving her legs for last. It took only minutes at best, for though the rope was thick and coarse, their blades were sharper than seemed normal.

While Belle was being cut free of the net, the other men moved about the ship. Talking quietly amongst themselves, slapping each other on the back, one even pausing to open a barrel of drink for them all. She actually didn't hear the third man approach, his footsteps lost to the other noises of the ship. But not his gasp, Belle whipping her head about in his direction. She nearly gasped herself, because Belle recognized him, everything from the kind eyes that she considered a lie, to the red cap on his head, the man known as Smee turning to yell for his captain.

That voice was the same voice she had first heard when being drawn out of the sea, and onto the ship. The very voice she had recognized but hadn't been able to place. But knowing whose voice it was, didn't offer her any comfort, Belle remembering what Smee had tried to do to her back in Storybrooke. If it hadn't been for Rumplestiltskin's magic, Smee really would have succeeded in wiping out Belle's memories and personality.

"You!" Belle tried to hiss, but her voice was still so whisper soft. And Smee's shouting was so loud, drowning out her attempts to speak. But not the sound of a sturdy pair of boots, the footsteps strong and sure where Smee's had been sneakily quiet.

"All right Smee. I'm here." Came a husky accented voice that was as confidant sounding as his steps. "What do you lot have there?" There was a pause, and Belle spied the captain at the same exact moment he laid eyes on her. "Or should I say who?" He asked, and eyes she already knew were a dark blue roamed over her from head to toe, before settling a curious gaze to Belle's shocked one.

Shock wasn't the only thing Belle was feeling in the moment, a tremor of fright she was too familiar and uncomfortable with, and a spike of honest to goodness anger filling her. For here was yet another man she recognized, a man who had been both the torturer and the tormented, terrifying Belle one moment, then making her feel pity the next. Giving her hope, then dashing it, taking from her the comfort of all Belle had thought to be true, theirs was a complex history even given the short amount of time spent together.

Short though the time may be, he had still had an effect on her. So many emotions caused, many in direct conflict of one another. She feared him, might even despise him, but above all Belle felt sorry for him. Though it was hard to remember why, when she was cold, wet and shaking, her still bleeding shoulder a constant throbbing pain that made it difficult to think past.

So difficult, she couldn't think straight to notice he was different from when she had last seen him. That the bruising and the black eye were gone, that the clothes while the same, were not as worn and weary, the leather not as aged as it had once been. His openly curious expression, held only a shade of the pain that had once seemed ever present in his eyes, and he wore none of the agitation.

He almost seemed approachable now, a figure not meant to be feared. Especially when he gave her the slightest of smiles, bending on one knee to get closer to her. She could see the sea's touch upon him, the salty droplets that clung to his lashes, and his hair soaked with it. He had been too close to the railing at one point, to avoid the water splashing over it onto the deck. But he was far from bedraggled, wearing the water in a way that Belle might have begrudgingly acknowledged as sexy.

"What strange fish have we stolen from the sea this time?" He murmured to her, but it wasn't Belle who answered but one of the men.

"She's not one of THEM." There was excitement crackling in the man's voice. "Her blood runs red."

A slight widening of the captain's eyes, as though the news truly surprised him. Belle tried to shrink back when he reached out to her, the man making an attempt at a soothing sound. Her nostrils flared in response, breathing seemed difficult when his fingers gently prodded her injured shoulder. He kept his eyes right on her, right up to the moment he eased back to stare at his wet fingers under the direct glare of the lamp. The men around him all seemed to lean forward, as though unable to believe what they were seeing.

"Red indeed." Their captain said, but his voice was such Belle couldn't read the emotion behind such a confirmation. She couldn't understand why her blood and it's color would even matter, and Belle was getting tired of being stared at and poked and prodded.

"He...help..." Her voice a stronger whisper this time, all eyes went immediately to her, and then to her lips when her tongue flicked across it nervously.

"Smee, wake the doctor." The captain's order had the oldest of the men run off. "Can you stand?" He asked of Belle, and she merely blinked owlishly at the hand he held out to her. His smile was a tolerant one, the dark haired captain seizing hold of her wrist, his other arm going around her. She felt the cold of the metal even through the thin layer of her sweater, Belle attempting to shy away.

"Easy love, I've got you." She was pulled against him, her legs starting to tremble uncontrollably. She saw the worried gaze, heard the curse from somewhere to her left. "She's lost a lot of blood."

"The sea wouldn't be so unkind...would it?" Was a muttered comment behind her.

"When has the sea ever been that kind to us here?"

"Here...where's here?" Belle managed to murmur, but she was having trouble focusing. The change in position it made her dizzy, made her even sicker. Her legs were abruptly swept out from under her, Belle being lifted and cradled against the captain's chest.

"Neverland, love." She heard him whisper in her ear. "This here is Neverland."

The first of a hysterical giggle rose and lodged firmly in her throat. "Neverland?" Belle scoffed weakly. "It's just a story..." But then she remembered the land without magic, how she and nearly everyone else there had been nothing but stories to the people of that world. How their lives and very history, had been nothing more than cautionary children's tales.

"Oh...oh dear..." Belle managed to say, and then her eyes were rolling back in her head. The final shock had been too much, Belle no longer able to fight against it or her bloody injury.

To Be continued...

Wish I could have gotten the chapter to be a little longer but I always envisioned it ending with the moment Belle's passes out. I gave honest consideration to switching it to a Hook POV when she passed out, but I didn't want him to have the POV narration just yet. Chapter three will most likely still be a Belle POV.

I both like and don't like this particular chapter. *frowns at it*

-Michelle

Angelfan984, ah thanks! It's good to be back, even if its hard to get back into the swing of things. But I am happiest when writing, so I am trying my best to stay busy and keep at it! Trying my best not to get sick again too. Wish the weather would warm up a bit.

Ravengirl07, oh thank you! Glad to hear that, since I was worried. I was especially worried to start a new story when I felt so rusty and out of practice with writing. But this damn set up won't leave me alone until I get it put down in written form. ^^'' It's an idea that's got fierce hold of me, though I do hope like crazy to soon be writing Trade Off or something else of my existing stories. But especially trade off!

Ryunn Kazan, aw thank you. Glad to know I was missed, cause I sure missed you guys and gals! :)

Zerousy, thank you! Glad to know I have you at my back, to look over my stuff when I feel doubt about it. The hand holding is always, immensely appreciated my dear! And glad you enjoyed the fic so far! I have a few theories rolled into one about how the curse shifted her. But part of it has to do do with the fact some of the potion sent it's magic onto her hands when she was holding the shawl. Though part of me wonders how to explain it without doing a present day Rumplestiltskin POV. X_X

.Free, thank you! I'm glad your liking the idea so far! :D


	3. Chapter 3

It came to her in flashes, moments where Belle had briefly awakened. She had struggled against the heavy spell of sleep, lids fluttering as the woman had opened her eyes. Catching sight of concerned faces, Belle unable to truly focus on any one in particular. The faces had crowded around her, so many Belle had been sure she was seeing double, maybe even triple. Bobbing and weaving, swaying in place so fast she had had to shut her eyes close against the sight. And with their closing, time and consciousness had slipped away from her, Belle unaware of much of anything until she was let down from the embrace of a strong pair of arms, and the voices grew louder in their agitation.

The next time Belle had opened her eyes, had been in time to see a wicked looking hook glinting with the lamp light of the room. She had immediately tried to sit up, but a strong arm just over her breasts had prevented her from rolling away. It hadn't stopped the pain in her shoulder from flaring, nor kept the hook from tearing into the front of her jacket. The great rip of sound was one Belle was sure she would never forget, every nerve in her screaming of danger, in time to her own shout.

The wild shriek of fear had been too much, Belle had then fallen back limply on the bed. Her last sight that time, had been a pair of dark blue eyes, their curious light giving away to concern. She hadn't understood that concern, knowing they were more than just enemies for Belle represented something this man hated and needed to destroy. But the why of that need was lost, Belle unable to remember, unable to try, when hands had been pulling at her clothing.

Too weak to truly fight, Belle had still tried. Again she had been held down, the top of her dress being torn down to her waist. A surprised hiss had been heard, and seconds later Belle had realized the sound had come from her. Some cold liquid had been splashed on her shoulder, directly over the wound, and the liquid had made an already painful ordeal worse and that had been before the fingers and prongs began their prodding.

Belle could remember weeping, her misery slicking her cheeks. A voice had growled over her, demanding that she hold still. An even angrier voice had snarled at the first, and Belle had opened her eyes in time for a bottle to be placed to her lips. She hadn't immediately tried to drink, turning her face to the side as the stink of rum assaulted her nose's senses. But then that voice had spoken, that smooth confidant accent whispering huskily in her ear, urging her to drink up, that the rum would help her endure what was to happen next.

She had opened her mouth, a fearful question on her lips. But Belle hadn't been able to ask it, the rum pouring into her, a bitter strong taste that had burned all the way down her throat to her belly. They had kept on forcing the drink on her, and after a time Belle hadn't minded any longer the taste of it.

Weak from blood loss, in shock, and well on the way to being drunk, was it any wonder that when Belle had fallen unconscious that last time, it had lasted for a good deal longer than a handful of minutes? How long she wouldn't have been able to say, her present mixing with dreams, making Belle unable to be sure what was real and what was imagined. Had those blue eyes really been so worried as they had gazed down at her? Had a gentle hand brushed the damp curls from her face, had his throaty whisper actually urged her to fight? Most of all, had it been his snarl Belle had heard, right after she had been shot? HAD she been shot, or was that too a dream? Was anything real, or was everything false, Belle locked in a dream that was as creative as it was tortured?

As scary a thought as that was, there was also a feeling of hope that came with it. Maybe everything that had been happening was a dream. Maybe Belle hadn't fallen into the sea, maybe she hadn't been shot. Maybe that last day was nothing more than a figment of an overactive mind, Rumplestiltskin innocent of the things he had been accused of. A desperate hope began to bloom inside Belle, the woman wanting to laugh at herself for ever being so frightened, for ever having doubted Rumplestiltskin.

And then that hope died, and with it went her mood, Belle having tried to turn over in her sleep. Though dulled in nature, the pain in her shoulder was still there, Belle cutting her bottom lip on her teeth as she tried to stifle the worst of her whimpers. Her eyes started to flutter open, Belle not wanting to look and see. But it was too late, she couldn't stop herself, Belle wide awake and aware that the bed she lay upon was too decadent and comfortable to be that of her own. Or that of the hospital, Belle feeling silk sheets beneath her, and a heavy coverlet of velvet over her.

A multitude of pillows lay sprawled out behind her, every color imaginable in the expensive fabrics. Big enough for two and then some, the bed was situated in an off corner alcove of a much larger room. A cascade of beads formed a curtain that lay dangling a few feet from the bed, giving a sense of privacy that held the alcove separate from the room. Shafts of light snuck between the strands of beads, but she would have to step through the curtain to truly see the rest of the room.

At the foot of the bed, over one post, lay a man's shirt, the fabric a color so dark Belle at first thought it black. Much later, Belle would discover it had threads of a dark purple that was only apparent in direct light. But it's true color didn't matter at the moment, Belle uneasy at the sight of it, and the lavish bed, knowing it was like nothing she had ever seen, not even back at Rumplestiltskin's castle when they had lived in the enchanted realm.

A worried knot forming inside her, Belle tried to rationalize what was happening. Tried to put a story behind where she was. Surely Rumplestiltskin had moved to protect her, maybe hide her after Hook's latest attack. Surely Belle was among allies, that a friendly face would soon appear, maybe even that of Rumplestiltskin's. Her hopes of that neatly diminished when Belle began to sit up, the velvet cover inching down to leave her body uncovered.

Her gasp was loud and pronounced, Belle snatching at the coverlet, her injured shoulder protesting such a quick and violent action. She didn't care, pulling the blanket up over her bared breasts, Belle barely noticing she had gauzy bandages packed in place around her injury. She was simply too upset, too dismayed by her naked state, to even wonder about her injury. Belle would actually sit there seething for several whole minutes, having decided some cosmic entity was having a good laugh at her and her predicament. Because Rumplestiltskin would never be so rude as to leave her in such a state, at the very least he would have insisted on a nightgown of some sorts.

As angry as she was about her state of undress, if Belle was truly honest, her upset came from fear. The fear that it hadn't been a dream, that she had really fallen through the boundary into a sea, only to be fished out of the waters, and left to sleep in what she feared was a certain pirate's bed. And not even the fact that he had left her her panties could appease Belle, the woman gritting her teeth, and taking several deep breaths to keep from exploding. She couldn't calm completely, her fury simply too red hot for that. But as she sat there stewing, Belle became aware of sound, or rather the near absence of it, the footsteps muted and soft, as though everyone around her was trying their hardest not to disturb her. It might have proved amusing, to think of the noisy sailors from before acting as quiet as mice, but for Belle, it was panic of a different sort, the woman worrying that at any minute, someone would come barging in on her.

She began looking about the alcove, trying to see if there was any sign of her clothing. And then a flash hit her, Belle remembering the hook tearing into her jacket, the man who wielded that deadly silver too impatient to try and figure out how to work open her clothing. Belle nearly groaned then, frantic as she looked about to see if anything of her clothing had survived. If they had, they weren't in reach. In fact there was little of anything to be had, besides the bedding and the pillows, and the shirt on the post. The post! Her wild gaze quickly sought it out, Belle nearly breathing a sigh of relief to see the shirt still hanging there. She'd immediately inched her way over to the foot of the bed, taking care to keep the coverlet pressed against her, until one second before she began pulling on the shirt.

Her shoulder protested the actions needed, Belle having to dress slower than she liked. The shirt itself fell down just past her knees, and had a long row of buttons that she made sure to fasten each and every one. The sleeves went past the tips of her fingers, Belle having to roll the cuffs several times in the hopes they wouldn't unravel too often. Her fingers trembled more than she had liked, Belle not sure if it was her nerves or her injury that led to her unsteady hands. Certainly her stomach was rolling in upset as she shifted out of the bed, and walked the few feet to the curtain. Belle had to take a deep breath to shore up her nerves before she parted the sea of beads. They click clacked noisily together, but weren't loud enough to be heard outside this cabin.

Larger on the inside than she had expected, Belle took in the sight of what had to be the captain's cabin. It was as decadent as the bed, an expensive oriental rug nailed to the floor, silk and satin draperies tied back with golden tassels to let the midday sun fill the expanse of the room. An assortment of chests were to be found, complete with their treasure, the stolen gold and jewels, and even a crown twinkling in the light.

What Belle first assumed was a painting was framed on the wall. She'd feel a mix of surprise and delight to find it was a map of the Enchanted Realms's lands, not quite accurate on it's velvet canvas. A closer examination would have the woman realize that this was a map of the land as it had existed some two hundred years prior to Belle's birth.

"Curious and curious." She murmured, intrigued despite her upset.

She continued her examination of the room, finding there were many leather bound books laying about. Many had bright red bookmarks wedged in between the pages, and quite a number of them had to do with magic and myths, legends and treasure. Less used were the books piled on a corner shelf, the titles such that Belle recognized the type of them if not the actual stories. The cheap copper penny costing books of adventure, romance, and tragedy, an entertainment first made popular by those of the nobility.

As great a passion as books were for her, Belle managed to turn away from the shelf. There were other things to see, such as the large table with the chairs wedged against it. There were soft cushions on the chairs, also expensive as though the man who lived here prided himself on living as close to the lap of luxury as he could steal. Even the place settings, with it's fork and knives were made of real silver, Belle unable to wrap her head around such a lavish show. Her kingdom had been poor, one of these forks alone melted down, would have been enough wealth to feed a third of her people.

Beneath the empty plates, was another map, this one made of a rough cloth. It was no professional hand that had made this one, and Belle wouldn't have known what, where she was looking at, if not for the writing scrawling out names of important markers. The Serena Sea, and the Never Sea, the dark forest, skull rock, and a smattering of islands all came together to make up the face of what was known as Neverland.

She didn't want to believe. Not in Neverland, not in anything that had happened. Even as she stepped away from the table, took quick steps with her shaking legs, Belle was in denial. Even once she reached the window, and gazed out at what could have been the Never sea, or the Serena sea, Belle tried to tell herself she was still in Storybrooke. But the waters were endless, no land in sight for as far as her eye could see.

"No." She said in a dry whisper, hearing nothing but the gentle waves lapping at the sides of the ship. Not even bird song could be heard, for even a sea gull wouldn't dare fly out this far from land. "No." Belle repeated, and started to sag in place. She suddenly felt too hot, her mouth too dry, the very air seeming to suffocate her.

When next she opened her eyes, Belle found herself back in the decadent bed. The shirt she wore, had been opened, one sleeve slid off to reveal her shoulder. The bandages was gone, allowing Belle to see the messy stitching through a wound that had obviously been well tended and cleaned. As cared for as it had been, Belle knew without a doubt it would also leave a permanent scar.

"There there love, It's nothing that will detract from a beauty like yours." The man's voice was accompanied by the rattle of the beads. Belle gasped, and immediately tried to sit up, and pull the shirt closed.

"Easy does it, love..." The man was immediately by her side, grabbing hold of her shoulder in an attempt to ease her back down against the pillows. "The doctor's done his best, but if you thrash about, that wound will open up again and have you bleed all over a new set of my pillows." A slight smile accompanied those words, but the blue eyes were worried.

Perhaps it was that worry that persuaded Belle. Or maybe it was the fact that the more she struggled, the more the shirt came undone, baring more and more of her body to him. Maybe it was that, and the fact she didn't want him, anyone, to be touching her for longer than was necessary, Belle allowing the man his way by laying back against the pillows. But she didn't relax, her skin prickling with unease as he used his hand to sweep back the hair that had fallen over her wound. And then he did the oddest thing, his other arm moving, to catch at the shirt with the sharp tip of something that gleamed silver.

"Hook!" Belle squeaked out, finally remembering how to speak. The man and the hook he was named after, didn't pause, the shirt being tugged back into place to cover as much of Belle as was possible while still leaving her shoulder exposed.

"Yes I know." He murmured to her, his blue eyes briefly meeting hers. "It's quite scary the first time one sees it, isn't it?" The hook freed of the shirt, rose, the man bringing the blunt curve of it to caress Belle's right cheek. "But I'd never use my hook against someone as pretty as you..not without you first begging me for it."

That last confused her, Belle suspecting it was some sort of innuendo or joke being had at her expense. But she couldn't at all imagine how a hook could do anything but hurt someone, even if it was capable of as soft a caress as the one Belle had just received.

Even worse, her confusion seemed to make him smile. A genuine curving of the lips, not that slight half smile that he had given her before. It was all quite strange to see, for there was a time when Belle had thought him incapable of anything but anger and a pain that not even the most malicious of smiles could truly hide.

The pain was still there, but instead of that raw angry hatred, he just seemed sad. She'd have deemed him another man, if not for the dark haired good looks, and that unmistaken silver hook. She glanced at it again, then at him, watching his gaze go hooded in response. Belle shivered, but said nothing, not even when he brought a wet cloth to her wound.

"You're not one for words, are you?" He asked, his actions with the cloth ever so gentle.

She blinked owlishly for one moment in her surprise, nearly shrugged her shoulders despite her injury, before speaking. "It so happens I love words...speaking them, hearing them, reading them..."

"You read?" His hand had paused, his look intrigued.

"Doesn't everyone?" She asked that before remembering there was a time in the Enchanted Realm where only the men and the women of the nobility had been allowed to be educated. Even once it had been allowed for all people, many hadn't been able to afford the education needed to learn a skill such as reading. It hadn't mattered in Storybrooke, perhaps the kindest aspect of the curse gifting all there with the ability to read. But those who hadn't been cursed, who had existed even just a hundred years before? Most would have been lucky to know a few words, let alone be able to read a whole sentence.

Thinking of the many books Belle had seen in the cabin, her opinion of the man tending to her wound, rose just a margin. Stronger yet was her curiosity, Belle wondering just who he had been before coming to Storybrooke, seeking revenge.

But Belle wasn't the only one curious, the man giving one last gentle rub with the cloth. "I suspected you were from a more advanced time than the one I had left behind." He murmured, setting aside the damp cloth to fetch a length of gauzy bandages. "But I hadn't realized just how much time had passed, if it's expected that everyone can read."

She said nothing, merely holding still as the bandages were wound and taped into place. He talked as he helped her arm back into the shirt's sleeve, and made no move to leave the bed. "I forget often how quickly time passes outside of Neverland."

She furrowed her brow, trying to recall what she had heard of Neverland. It wasn't much, Belle not having nearly enough time for frivolous reading. Not with all the drama and excitement of Storybrooke, from getting the library ready to open, to helping her friend Ruby, to getting kidnapped and nearly having her personality wiped. With all that had been happening, it hadn't seemed like there was point to reading a story intended for children, about a land she hadn't even dreamt was real.

Now Belle wished she had, as if that story might have prepared her for something, anything that might be thrown in her path. But could anything have prepared her for the pirate before her? Belle had a nagging doubt that nothing would have, and certainly nothing would have prepared her to wake up pretty much naked in his bed.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Such interesting garments." Was his reply. "But I am afraid in our haste to see to your injury, not much of your things survived my hook." Another smile, this one almost a smirk. "You were bleeding quite heavily, and the doctor feared it was too much for one girl's body to take."

She frowned at him. "Not a girl." Belle said, watching his smirk grow more prominent. "I'm a woman."

"And what a woman you are..." His husky murmur of appreciation made her even more uncomfortable, Belle fighting to not bring her hands to clutch at the shirt in an attempt to hide what had already been seen.

"And who is we?" Even as she tried to change the subject, her tone sounded mildly anxious, which was still an accomplishment given how shot her nerves were.

"Myself, the doctor, and Smee." At her look of horror, he let out a good natured laugh. "The doctor is a professional, and Smee is too old to do anything more than look. As for myself, I am a gentleman..."

"A gentleman pirate?!" Belle interrupted, all her doubt and derision evident in her voice.

"Well to a point." He admitted with a cheeky grin. "But I assure you, of all the beds aboard this ship, you'll find none safer to sleep in than mine."

"I am not at all reassured." Belle glared at him.

"Then you are a smarter lass than most!" He leaned towards her, Belle trying to be defiant even as she shrank back against the pillows. The rich, hearty scent of him surrounded her, coming not just from him, but from the pillows and the sheets. Heck even the shirt she wore, had his scent, a clean masculine smell that was heightened in her fright. As good a smell as she suspected his intentions were bad, Belle's eyes went wide as they stared first at him, then his eyes, and then finally landed on his lips. Those lips were perilously close to hers, Belle expecting the kiss to come at any moment.

She was so busy staring at his mouth, Belle didn't at all notice the way he studied her in turn. His brow might have furrowed, and his eyes certainly narrowed. He didn't kiss her, though he did whisper to her. Words that left her shaking, Belle barely managing to stifle a gasp.

"Gentleman or no, a pirate be what I am at heart. And pirates are known for taking what they want. You best be remembering that, lass."

On the heel of those frightening words, he backed off of her. Actually left the bed, and made his way to the curtain. The beads began to rattle, just before he turned to look at her once more.

"I am Killian Jones, captain of the Jolly Roger Pirates. But you may call me Hook." He actually paused, waiting for something. Almost forgetting how to think, Belle startled in place to realize that was his way of asking for her name.

"Belle."

He didn't smile this time. If anything he looked bothered by what had happened, maybe by Belle herself. But he repeated her name and gave a slight bow to her before walking through the curtain of beads. They rattled noisily in his wake, but couldn't drown out the sound of a door opening, than closing.

Wide eyed and paled, the most Belle could manage was to remain against the pillows, staring up at the wood paneled ceiling over the bed. Her heart seemed loudest of all, it's frightened beat not yet ready to calm. She wasn't at all sure what had just happened, if Hook had been warning her, or threathening her. But she now didn't know what was the more urgent matter, getting back to Storybrooke, or getting herself away from Hook!

To Be Continued...

I was on fire tonight! XD I've been writing since nine something. (It's a little after 1:30 am as I type this note.) I had difficulty at first to get my opening paragraphs, but once I started, whoo it flowed! I was amazed at my quick progress! *celebrates*

Next chapter is most likely going to be a Hook POV but...and here's where I doubt. okay I like most everything in this chapter except for one area. And it's when he leans in like he is going to kiss her? Does that make sense, or does it seem like a stupid thing? That's the part I am feeling really doubtful for...I don't know if I should take it out or something. ARGH!

-Michelle

The Elegant Faerie, oh thank you! Glad you found my story and decided to give it a try. I am a BIG Hook Belle fan though I also write him with Emma. Hook POV should be next chapter four!

Jewelzy, aw thank you! I really appreciate hearing that! :D I was worrying mostly that maybe I should have had more of Belle's thoughts in it for two...but maybe I'm just worrying too much and being too hard on myself. Thank you again! Love live Hook Belle!

Angelfan984, it's coming! I hope soon! Def want it to be for chapter four.

Ryunn Kazan, thank you dearie! Hope it keeps exciting you!

Ravengirl07, oh thank you! I am trying my best. *knocks on wood for fast updates*

Zerousy, thank you! *preens* Wow, you shared your Once viewing with my fic? I am flattered it could compete with the actual show in regards to your attention! ^_- Thanks again.


	4. Chapter 4

It was something short of a miracle, that in his agitation, the man known as Captain Hook hadn't slammed the door shut behind him. But he hadn't wanted to scare the lass, not any further than he already had. It wasn't her fault that Hook hadn't seen a woman in roughly two hundred years, let alone one that was as beautiful as she. With bright intelligent eyes that were a blue a few shades lighter than Hook's own, with a cute button of a nose, and a mouth whose lips promised a dozen sensual delights, Belle was a beauty many a man would be hard pressed not to want. Stronger yet was the desire of the man who had had that beauty sleeping near naked in his bed, Hook lusting just a little too much for his liking.

But that wasn't Belle's fault. Unconscious for most of the last three days, it hadn't been her choice to make, and if Hook was honest, there really had been no other option. He had seen how the other men had looked at her, how they had all stopped what they were doing to stare with an open astonishment, and a hunger to rival Hook's own. Their captain wasn't the only one that hadn't seen a woman in years, and it was for Belle's own protection that Hook had claimed her.

That claiming hadn't been without it's immediate problems. There had been protest, many of the men thinking Belle should be shared, the woman made to serve their every disgusting desire. More than one throat had been slit, the captain's hook busy making examples of those who would oppose him on this. Before the first night was through, four good men had been dead, killed by Hook as proof that he did more than just threaten.

The loss of men was a blow to an already struggling crew. But Hook did what he had to, to maintain order and keep the crew fearful of him. Hook had to be ruthless, strong, and above all feared, the men had to be aware that they had no chance of overcoming him. A gentleman only to the ladies, Hook was as vicious a pirate as they came, and no one was better suited to lead what had proven to be the many kingdoms of the Enchanted Realm's worst nautical nightmare.

But the time of their reign had passed, and Neverland was a far tougher nut to crack. True there was plenty of treasure to be found, but there wasn't much in the way of people. Just a monster and his boys, and a scraggly crew of pirates that had been cut down by more than half due to the unexpected dangers of Neverland. A merciless realm, Neverland amazed as much as surprised Hook, for the unexpected kept on happening, right up to the arrival of the woman in his bed.

Curious about her, Hook hadn't had a chance to ascertain if her arrival would prove a blessing or a curse. He hadn't had a chance to learn much of anything aside from her name, and mentally Hook kicked himself for the wasted opportunity. But she had taken him by surprise, first by finally being awake for longer than a few seconds, and then by the excitement he had felt when dealing with her first hand.

All too vividly Hook remembered the feel of her soft skin, the way she had squirmed against him in an effort to get away. Her shirt pulling open more and more, flashing tantalizing glimpses of her body. Teasing him with what he had already looked upon a hundred times at least, and still he hadn't been satisfied, for it wasn't often he had ANY woman in his bed. But then he hadn't wanted a woman, hadn't wanted any woman since his beloved. She was long dead now, but Hook still mourned her. Still felt the loss of her every day. But for once he hadn't been thinking of Mila, hadn't been missing her quite as strongly, or thinking about his revenge. All because of the moment he had first laid eyes on Belle, and felt a jolt go through him. He had been startled, excited, and then very concerned. For the girl and for himself, Hook realizing he wasn't as dead to desire as he had prided himself on.

That desire was really quite disturbing to a man who had sworn he would want no other. And in the first years after Mila's violent passing, Hook really hadn't longed for companionship of the female kind. He had simply been too sick with grief, too distraught and overcome with the madness of a broken heart. It had made him mean, vicious, and determined. A ruthless man on the quest for revenge. While many of his crew bemoaned the lack of women in Neverland, Hook had reveled in it, needing no distractions, wanting no chance of another worming her way into his heart or his bed. It simply hurt too much when they died, and Hook had sworn he would die before going through such heartbreak again.

Having determined that Mila would be the one and only love of his life, Hook hadn't been at all prepared for Belle. She had literally dropped into his life, and one look was all it had took to get the blood pumping in a certain direction. His heart at least remained unaffected, Hook sure it was as broken as ever. But it was in conflict with his bodily desires, and if he had been any less of a gentleman, he would already be on her, doing a lot worse than just looking.

It was going to take a lot of effort and restraint on Hook's part, to keep Belle from becoming his mistress in more than just name. The crew already expected him to sleep with her, actually went so far as to resent him for claiming her. Hook wouldn't be surprised if he'd have to make a few more examples amongst the men in order to keep control of his ship. The woman brought more problems with her, than just the havoc she'd play with Hook's heart.

If he was truly as smart as he thought, Hook would have thrown her immediately overboard. Because she was trouble, just the type Pan himself would dish out. The twerp of a demon would revel in the idea of Hook's crew mutinying, of Hook's loss of power. Most of all the brat would love to see Hook squirm, torn apart on the inside by his own feelings and guilt.

No friend to each other, Pan considered Hook worst than his enemy. He was an intruder, and interloper, a thief set out to rob Neverland not just of it's gold, but of it's very magic. Hook didn't care if the land itself was destroyed, not if it meant he could obtain the power needed to achieve his revenge. But neither Pan nor Neverland gave up it's secrets that easily, and Hook honestly feared another two hundred years passing before he accomplished much of anything.

So much time already spent in Neverland, could Hook honestly afford a distraction now? But his conscience wouldn't let him throw Belle overboard. Wouldn't allow him to truly consider abandoning her in this place. For all he knew, she was some innocent Pan had stolen and thrust into his games. An unwitting pawn that would need protecting from more than just Hook and his pirates. Of course if she proved otherwise, conscience or no, Hook would in all haste rid himself of her. But he honestly hoped it wouldn't come to that, despite all the problems a woman aboard a pirate ship could actually cause.

The problems hadn't been so apparent, back when Mila had been alive. A beautiful woman with her ink black hair, the crew had known not to touch her. It wasn't just Hook's threat that had kept her safe. Mila herself had been no vulnerable lily, having taken to the sword as though she had born to wield one. More than one sailor had found his gut skewered, and after the fifth such example, the Jolly Roger Pirates had learned to content themselves with the wenches and whores of the port towns they had sometimes visited.

Neverland had no such towns, no such delights to offer a man. An inhospitable land, not even savages could have found much here to endear it to them. Frankly Hook couldn't understand what appeal the land would have to a demon and his band of boys. Running wild, dirty and looking half starved, the boys were little better than animals and had proven just as vicious. They fit right in with the nature of this place, as big a threat on land, as the mermaids were in the water. And all in thrall to Peter Pan's whims.

Most would have left Neverland at the first chance. But then most wouldn't have been so desperate, so consumed by Hook's need for revenge. He wouldn't, couldn't leave. Not empty handed, and it didn't matter if he had all of Neverland's gold and jewels in his ship's hold. The things were meaningless baubles at best, and couldn't buy him one of the two things he wanted more than anything. Mila brought back to life, and Rumplestiltskin struck down dead.

The first wasn't likely to happen, even with all the magic of Neverland drained. There were rules to magic, unbreakable laws, that not even the dark one himself could bend. The dead stayed dead, the unshakeable truth Hook had to live with every day. But his revenge? His desire to see Rumplestiltskin dead? That just might be possible, provided he found the right tool. But he had all the time in the world to look, provided he stayed in Neverland.

His pirates weren't happy with this, or with many of his decisions of late. It was too bad, for he was the captain, not them. And he wouldn't stop reminding them of the fact, and in the most violent of ways, maintaining order in a land where so little of it existed.

A part of that order meant maintaining appearances, Hook allowing his face to give away nothing. For all the emotion that showed on his face, his crew couldn't be certain if the girl had yet to even awaken, or if their captain had just gotten done fucking her. He kept them guessing, not just about her, but about many things, the crew not even certain of just where in Neverland their next adventure was. His ship's course had been aimless, sticking to the Never sea, and as far out from the main land as one could get. It was a dangerous, reckless thing to do, the waters this far out rife with peril, especially from that of the mermaids. But it also afforded him a sense of privacy, the land so far removed that not even Pan would dare fly in for a visit.

It gave Hook time to think, to stop and consider his next move. Belle had already plunged so much of his plans into upheaval, first with her sudden arrival, then with the honest to goodness concern he had for her care and well being. And of course there was the excitement she had inspired, that she still caused him and his crew to feel. And though, aside from Hook and the doctor and Smee, none of them had seen her since that first dark night of her arrival, Belle was still very much on all of their minds.

Constant inquiries had been made about her, until an aggravated Hook had announced the next one to pester him with such questions would find themselves rendered into mermaid chow. That had stopped most of the questions, but not the curiosity, every one seeming to stop what they were doing, every single time the door to Hook's private cabin opened. A wave of disappointment would fill the air, the men hungry for Belle, for any little thing they could get, even just a glimpse. Because of this, Hook had already decided that Belle would spend as little time among his crew as possible for he was ruthless not cruel. And flaunting a beautiful woman in their faces would be like waving a steak in front of starved and chained pack of dogs.

But the resentment was already there, festering worse with each new day. Some of his crew wasn't at all shy about giving him dirty looks, to which the captain made a show of sharpening his already deadly hook. The blood had barely had time to dry, and already Hook had a feeling he would be spilling more of it on the deck of his ship. Smee would fuss and worry, pretending the staining of the planks was what was actually bothering him. But in truth, the oldest of the Jolly Roger pirates, would be fearing, frightened for the captain he was ever so loyal to. Not liked by many, even before he had made a show of strong support, Smee knew he wouldn't live long should something befall Captain Hook.

Was Smee loyal to a fault, or merely doing what he had to, in order to survive under Hook's command? Did it even matter so long as he did what was asked of him? A bundle of worry and anxiety, Smee was always on edge, the only true time he was ever at ease was when relaying his captain's orders. Then Smee shined, perhaps enjoying a little too much the fact he could boss these men around under the guise of the captain's authority.

Tolerant of the man who hadn't started out a pirate, Hook favored Smee with a nod. The older man with his red knit cap, immediately made his way over to the captain, falling into step besides Hook as the pirate made his way to the Jolly Roger's wheel. It was barely turning, the waters turning tranquil shortly after Belle had been rescued from it.

The captain gripped hold of the wheel, both his hand and his hook being used. He wasn't yet ready to set a course for anywhere in particular, but the act of steering the ship had always been a calming activity for him. Smee knew enough to keep quiet, not pestering Hook about the woman or a possible course for the pirates. But his beady eyes were a light with questions left unvoiced, Smee also just as curious as any other man aboard Hook's ship.

"She's awake." Hook said after letting the silence drag out for several more minutes.

"Blessed be!" Smee exclaimed, his face breaking out into a jovial grin. "She's slept for so long I was starting to think she wasn't ever going to wake up." Hook said nothing, his expression appearing uncaring, as if the man hadn't been invested in any way towards the woman's recovery. His lack of reaction unsettled Smee, even after all this time, the man drawing his cap off of his head. The knit wool began to be crushed by thick fingers, Smee unable to hold his hands still during his moment of agitation.

"But then, she was under the doctor's care." Smee continued, in a high pitched tone. "He wouldn't have let her die. Not without trying everything possible first."

It was true what Smee was saying, the ship's doctor would have tried everything he could to save his charge. But not just because of the oath he sworn, but because the doctor was well aware of what form the captain's displeasure would have manifested as, should the woman have died.

"Well!" Continued Smee, always one to try and fill in the gaps left by his captain's silence. "She must have a lot of questions. I certainly do! Like what is she doing in Neverland, and why had the shadow dropped her in the sea? I must say, it was a might lucky you saw her fall. And even luckier that we were close enough to get to her before the mermaids did. Has she thanked you yet?"

"It hasn't had a chance to come up yet." Hook answered, but Smee was right about it being lucky. If Hook hadn't been star gazing with a telescope, if she had been dropped any further from the ship, well then Belle would have died. And even as Smee marveled at the luck of it, Hook couldn't help but be suspicious of such coincidences. The timing was just too perfect to be mere chance, someone, Pan maybe, had wanted Hook to see and rescue Belle.

"Hasn't come up?!" Smee made the slightest of scoffing sounds. "But then...what did you two talk about?"

"Not about much." muttered Hook, and Smee's face started to redden in embarrassment.

"Captain!" It almost sounded like an admonishment, Smee's anxiously trying for stern. "You didn't?" Hook glanced directly at him, one dark eyebrow arched in questioning way. Smee stammered and crushed the knit wool cap even more, assuming the worst from that one look. "She nearly died!" The older man exclaimed. "If not from the sea, than from whatever that was that did that to her shoulder! She's lost a hell of a lot of blood and..."

"You really think the worst of me, don't you, Smee?!" Hook snapped irritably. He had to fight not to give the wheel a vicious jerk that would have sent the whole ship careening in a spiral.

"No...no..." Smee began a protest. "I just...it's BECAUSE I hold you in such high esteem, because you have proven yourself to be more of a man then the men who make up your crew..." He was stammering again, trying to figure out how to get out of further insulting his captain. "Of course you wouldn't." He finally finished on a lame note. "You're not an animal."

"No, just a pirate." Hook muttered, his fingers clenching on the polished wood of the wheel. Smee stared at him, torn between confusion and worry. Not only did Hook not feel like explaining, he felt like he couldn't. Not unless he wanted to confide in Smee that he too wanted the woman, that he had frightened AND nearly kissed her.

"Captain?"

"Go wake that lush of a doctor." Hook grumbled out his order. "It's time he stop nursing that bottle, and see to his patient."

"Yes, Captain!" The red cap was placed back on his head, Smee all ready to scurry off.

"And get some tea brewing. I suspect after three days, she'll be wanting something more substantial than the doctor's tonic."

"Will do, Captain!" Smee grinned, happy in a way only he could be, about doing Hook's orders. Hook gave the slightest shake of his head after Smee was gone, but the older man didn't occupy the pirate captain's thoughts for very long. And nothing would, provided it didn't have to do with the mystery woman that lay recovering in his bed. The woman a puzzle that begged to be solved, Hook wouldn't rest until he knew exactly who Belle really was. 

To Be Continued...

This chapter gave me difficulties...probably cause I sat here doubting the whole way just about. When rereading it back, it read fine, but some reason every paragraph I struggled with. I worked on this on and off all day, and now have a headache. Haven't decided whose POV I will do for next chapter, maybe a mix of both voices. I'm kinda worried ya'll will not like this chapter, but it was necessary to set up the situations, the back story of the pirates and Neverland.

-Michelle

Zerousy, oh thank you! I had a blast writing it! Well except for the part I worried about. But I had an amazingly productive time of it...so I am pleased as punch by all the positive reaction to three I've gotten thus far! As for her skirt, in my head I was writing it that she wore a one piece dress, so when her top was ripped down to her waist, well the dress was pretty ruined. Course a short skirt is probably not a good idea to wear whilst traipsing about a crew of horny, sex starved pirates! XD

Ravengirl07, aw thank you. :D I have just been on a writing spree. Last night was amazingly productive. Truthfully today was too, though it was an all day and evening affair, these twelve or so hours of on again off again writing being so much harder than yesterday's magical flow. Can't claim I can keep up such a quick pace...writing when I feel inspired, and I do admit I have been inspired by this idea! To the point of distraction from other stuff. ^^;;;

Hookers, thank you! Hope the Hook POV hasn't disappointed. *really paranoid worried it has*

Jewelzy, thank you so much! I rather liked that statement of his too! XD


	5. Chapter 5

Doctor Connor was a tall, reed thin man whose red cheeked face was all sharp angles and gaunt. His eyes appeared set too deep in his skull, giving him a sharp eyed look of some beady eyed bird. It was surely his propensity for drinking at all hours of his waking life that accounted for the sickly look of him, the doctor slowly but surely drinking himself to an early grave. Or what would be an early grave, if not for the magic of Neverland.

None of the pirates, not even the doctor or captain Hook himself, understood the magic of Neverland's eternity. Time stopped for all creatures, and sickness stayed the worst of it's hand. Only the most direct and brutal of attacks could break hold of the enchantment that seemed to permeate the very air of this realm. The violence of being ripped apart, a throat slit, a heart stabbed. Anything that involved a lot of blood loss, and repeated stabbings, the deep puncturing of flesh. Neverland, never an idyllic paradise on it's best days, was full to bursting with the kind of creatures capable of doling out the brutality needed.

Among them, included was the pirates, Captain Hook's crew just as vicious, just as deadly as anything else in Neverland. They HAD to be, if they were wanting to stand a chance of surviving. And as their captain, Hook had to be the worst of them all. To keep both his life and control of his crew, Hook had had to become ruthless. A hard, merciless, and unforgiving man, Hook had found it easy to make himself over once his beloved had died.

Her death was his reason for everything, the drive and determination behind Hook thriving in Neverland. Making him a man capable of standing sword to sword with anything, anyone, including Peter Pan. It was no wonder the brat hated him, Pan unused to being challenged by anything, anyone in the realm of Neverland. That alone would have been enough to make Hook Pan's enemy, but the fact that the pirates were looting without restraint? Stealing not only gold, but ready to take magic, all magic, even the source that fueled Neverland itself? It made Hook person non grata in Pan's mind, the demonic imp always searching for ways to not only foil the pirates, but rid the realm of their captain.

Conscious of Pan's intentions, Hook couldn't help but be wary where the woman was concerned because of it. For innocent or not, she was a trouble that Hook did not need, a trouble he had been unprepared for. In many ways Hook was unsettled, that hard exterior he had cultivated proving susceptible to a pretty face. One look at her, and it had reminded Hook of just how weak a man he really was, unwanted desires and urges alighting inside him.

A lust long thought buried, it alone would have been trouble enough. But add to it the want to protect, the urge to perhaps comfort? Better it would be if all Hook had felt when looking at the woman was sexual longings, rather than a stirring of such feelings that they belonged to a weaker, kinder man then the one he had prided himself on being.

But that ruthless, driven man was proving no match to Hook's new feelings. To the concern and curiosity, the urge to protect, the fierce want, and the harsh relief experienced when the woman had opened her eyes for longer than a few seconds. It spoke of how invested he had already become where the woman was concerned, how Hook would have felt something, be it sadness or remorse, or even anger, if she had died while in his care. He might not have known her enough to mourn should she have passed, but already Hook felt enough of a connection to be glad she had survived.

This connection, those feelings were exactly why Hook should run. Before Belle brought them closer together, before Hook forgot the pain that came with such involvement. Most of all, he should run before he softened so far as to forget the ruthless, driven man who had thrived in Neverland, and who had thwarted Peter Pan time and time again.

But it was easy to think, less easy to actually follow through. By his own hand, Hook had tied them together, Belle relatively safe so long as the crew believed she was their captain's possession. To ignore her now, or worse yet set her loose among his crew would court trouble, Hook unable to stomach the idea of what his sex starved pirates would do to a woman if given the chance. But it was no less palpable what effect Belle could have on Hook, the man ready to fight tooth and nail to remain as he was. A relatively unfeeling man, who thrived on adversity, whose revenge drove him to succeed.

Feeling as though he was now navigating through murky unfamiliar waters, the sharp rocks of emotions that with which he must avoid at all costs, Hook nodded a greeting to Doctor Connor. Looking as terrible as ever, the sun was a harsh spotlight upon the doctor's pale skin, making the red spots on his cheeks and the tip of his nose stand out in stark contrast. There was bags under his eyes, shadows that came from one too many restless nights. Connor looked like hell warmed over, and was worst to see because the doctor was stone cold sober for once.

It wasn't by the doctors' choice, this new state of existing. His captain had been ever so insistent that the doctor be sober when dealing with a patient whose life had hung in the balance. Connor might not want to live any more, but he was well aware that if displeased, Hook would have found a way to make his existence even more miserable than the doctor currently found it to be. The unknown of Hook's vengeance, was infinitely worst than the idea of just dying, to a man so intent on drinking himself dead. And suicidal though he may be, Connor didn't have much taste for violence. Especially when it came to his own self.

It left drink the most passive aggressive way to try to die. And most days Hook didn't care if the doctor succeeded. Barely tolerable on a good day, Connor was downright insufferable on his bad. And most days WERE bad as far as the doctor was concerned. Forced to treat a bunch of in his own words, dirty, no good, stinking pirates, Connor had never forgiven Hook and his crew for having been kidnapped and pressed into their service. Nor had Connor ever come to grips with the fact that a mere week later, they had all ended up in Neverland, a realm so far removed from that of their own that the doctor had had no hope of rescue.

Connor's grudge had only worsened with that realization, and he had harbored his hate for well over two hundred years. The fact that he had had to try to be sober these past three days, could only exacerbate the doctor's issues with Hook. He was barely civil, actually glowering back with all the bluster he could gather.

"Well, awake is she?!" Doctor Connor demanded, in a voice that carried louder than Hook liked. He knew the doctor did it on purpose, projecting news that Hook hadn't been ready to share with his crew. The pirates of the Jolly Roger pretended to be busy, making a show of not looking their captain's way, but Hook knew better. Every ear above deck was straining, ready to pick up the merest whisper of news.

"For longer than a few seconds at least." Hook grudgingly admitted. He reached for the doctor, and it was no mistake that it was his hook that touched the man, and not his hand. Connor immediately recoiled, Hook nonchalant as he speared the man's sleeve. "It seems those brews you've been forcing down her throat did some good after all."

"As they should have!" Connor snapped, falling into reluctant step besides Hook. "If it's one thing I am good at, it is mixing medicines."

Certainly Connor was better at making medicines, then he was at performing unexpected surgeries. The butcher job he had done on Belle's shoulder was proof of that, though Hook supposed he shouldn't be too harsh about that. None had been more surprised than the doctor to find a cylindrical piece of silver embedded deep in the woman's shoulder. And none had understood how it had gotten there in the first place, and even less how to get it out without causing distress and a whole lot more blood loss to Belle.

Hook still remembered the way she had screamed, the way it and her sobbing had tugged at something deep inside him. Connor hadn't been gentle, none of them had felt there was time to waste on figuring out the best way to proceed. And still Hook had all but erupted into violence when the doctor had snarled at the girl for not holding still for his hatchet job. Smee by some luck, had known just what to do, bringing forward a large bottle of rum. The woman had then downed more than half the bottle at Hook's urging, and the painful, messy process that had followed, had proceeded more or less smoothly.

After there had been little time to relax. Hook, the doctor, even Smee at one point, maintaining a bedside vigil by the woman. Constant vigilance had been required for the caring of her shoulder, but it had never once discolored with infection. A small miracle that, thanks to the medicines, ointments, and cleaning the wound had constantly received. But there had been no guarantees, the three well aware of just how much blood she had lost. Not just aware, perhaps they had all been bracing themselves for the worst, actually expecting it to be the only outcome. And when she had defied their expectations, had actually pulled together to wake and get out of that bed? Was it any wonder Hook had felt such an immense relief?

But even that relief was too much, an investment of feeling Hook hadn't been aware of making. He of course tried to justify such a feeling. Telling himself that the past days had been rough, the woman needing constant care and vigilance. It was only right he be rewarded with positive results after all the effort taken to nurse Belle back to health. He was lying to himself, Hook pretending just the act of caring for a beautiful woman hadn't in some way made him feel closer to her.

Shaking free of such thoughts, Hook cast a sharp barb in reply to the doctor's boast. "That might be the ONLY thing you are good at." He heard the doctor's angry huff, but it wasn't as though Connor had much with which to argue. He had been half assing his job as ship doctor for years, most of his skill wasted in a land as magical as Neverland. And yet Hook couldn't regret not killing him. Not if it meant Connor could save even one life more.

Not sure if it was the doctor, a miracle, or just plain luck that had played a part in the woman's recovery, Hook all but threw Connor into the private cabin. The doctor made a fuss, his outraged sounds making the corner of Hook's mouth turn up. The pirate fought the smile, and shut the door behind him, closing off the cabin to the hungry eyes that lingered on deck. His crew was finding too many reasons of late to hover, the men waiting in eager anticipation of even a glimpse of the woman inside their captain's bedroom.

Hook was just as eager, though he tried to tell himself it was merely because he had questions for the woman. He needed to know who she was, if she could be trusted, and most of all if she was an agent of Pan's. Talking would hopefully help Hook to get a sense of just how truthful she was capable of being, but more than that he was curious. Not just about her, but about the thing that had been dug out of her shoulder, Hook very much wanting to know what kind of weapon was capable of such brutality.

Such questions could wait, but not for long. And not because Hook's curiosity was eating at him, but because ironically, time was of the essence. If the woman were not the truthful sort, the longer she had before questions, the more time it gave her to come up with false answers. But the best time for questions had already passed, and Hook was kicking himself for rushing out of the room so quickly after Belle had regained consciousness. But there was no changing past mistakes, and Hook had needed that time away as much as Belle had.

Thinking himself calm and clear minded, Hook allowed the doctor to step through to the alcove curtained away from the rest of the room. He followed a second later, just in time to see Belle giving Connor a wide eyed, wary look.

"Who are you?"

Not enough of her color had restored, the brown haired woman jerking upright from her perch upon the bed's many pillows. But unlike the doctor, Belle wasn't a pasty white fright. Which was only to be expected, because only a drunk like the doctor would shun the sun in favor of some dark and dank room.

"This..." The pirate said, clapping both his hand and his hook on each of the doctor's shoulders. "Is the ship's doctor."

Connor had flinched, both from the hearty slap and his fear of the captain's hook. But he kept his mouth quiet, as Belle gave him a doubtful look over. Hook could only guess at what unpretty thoughts she was thinking, Connor hardly a sight to endear himself to a lady. Even Hook's own crew, looked better than the miserable way Connor had taken to presenting himself.

It wasn't that Connor had been born ugly. If not for the years of endless excess, the man might have been passable in looks. Not quite good looking, but not ugly either, and Hook knew a little effort and confidence went a long way to making one's face better than it actually was. But of course, one had to want to try to impress, and Connor most certainly did not. And certainly not to Hook and his pirates!

"Then it is you I should thank?"

Hook waited for the doctor to bristle in response to the hesitant way Belle had phrased her question. Connor was many things, least of all modest, and the man would have demanded his due where gratitude was concerned. But instead of the harsh condescension Hook had been expecting, the doctor seemed to stammer. The tips of his ears turned a red to match his cheeks and his nose, and then Connor actually attempted a smile at Belle.

Hook was near speechless with shock. Never in the two hundred years he had known Connor, had the doctor found reason to smile. Not even when at his drunkest. But it appeared even the doctor was not immune to a beautiful woman once she was awake and alert.

"Yes. It was thanks to me..." The pressing of the sharp tip of the captain's hook into the doctor's shoulder, had Connor do a hasty correction. "And the efforts of the captain, that you were saved."

"It was a team effort." Hook added with a smile that was more forced than he had wanted. But he hadn't liked the idea of the doctor claiming sole credit for Belle's recovery. It was completely irrational and he told himself it wasn't at all jealousy at work, when Hook had acted to prevent Belle from bestowing all her gratitude on Connor alone.

"Even Smee took a turn at keeping a bedside vigil." continued Hook, who felt far too ridiculously pleased when Belle turned her wary gaze to him. She really had the most extraordinary pair of eyes, a blue more lovely than any he had ever seen.

They stared at each other a good long moment, before Belle let her head nod. "You have my thanks, captain. You both do."

Hook returned her nod. "Think nothing of it. I am always one to help a woman in distress."

Connor then made a noise, a none too subtle scoff. Belle's eyes flicked in his direction, and the doctor broke free of Hook's hold. "I'll be needing to look you over." The doctor announced, hefting the small black satchel that carried all the tools of his trade. "To gauge how well your recovering."

Belle's gaze turned back to Hook's. Doctor Connor frowned, and turned to glance at Hook too. The amused captain merely gave a get on with it gesture, to which the woman clutched at her shirt as though it was a shield.

"Don't worry my lady." Connor spoke in a surprisingly soothing tone. "I won't be too intrusive." He opened the bag, but Belle's eyes remained on Hook, the pretty blue color taking on a defiant gleam.

"I think you should leave."

Hook was thinking her way of thought was correct. He should leave, but it was the last thing he wanted to do. And it didn't completely have to do with ogling her any further. He still had his questions, and Hook didn't trust Connor as far as he could throw him. It didn't have all to do with sexual advances, Hook wary that a spiteful Connor would prepare Belle for any questions the pirate might have for her.

"I'm sure I should." Hook said out loud. "But your request is simply out of the question."

Her eyes narrowed in her upset, Belle giving him the fiercest glare she could manage. "And why is that? Aren't I perfectly safe with your doctor? Isn't he a professional like you claimed?"

"My lady, I am likely the only one aboard this ship not out to molest you." Connor had opened his bag, and was laying out things on the bed. "And no disrespect meant..." Which of course meant the opposite was true. "But I'm thinking that includes you, captain."

Hook didn't try to deny it, because a certain part of him was very much geared towards the idea of it. In fact was eager for it, and chaffed at the idea of Hook behaving.

"My intentions are not yours to guess at, Doctor." Hook retorted with ice coating his words. "Regardless, whatever they may in fact be, the hard truth of the matter is my bed is the safest place for her in Neverland."

The doctor had been in the midst of putting on his stethoscope, when he turned to glare at Hook. The pirate met his glare, and gave a knowing smirk. Connor glared and grumbled, but ultimately conceded, for the doctor knew his own bed and that of the ship's infirmary couldn't come close to making the same claim.

"Safe from the wolves, but not from the shark." Connor muttered, slipping a monocle over his right eye. He peered through it at Belle, a wooden tongue depressor lifted to her mouth. She didn't even try to reply, shifting her gaze so that she was focused on the doctor. For now Hook was fine with that, his eyes staying on her. Drinking in her beauty, but also studying it. Studying her. He didn't try to hide how he watched her, and save for the repeated clench of her fingers on the blanket over her, Belle betrayed nothing else of her agitation.

She never once relaxed, not even at the doctor's urgings. Hook supposed he couldn't fault her for that, and not just because of the way he watched her. He had in effect both threatened and warned her in the same breath, and Hook was not just a pirate, but captain of a whole crew of them. Neither Hook nor the doctor had been very subtle about the nature of the danger Belle faced, and not even a woman who worked for Peter Pan, would be that eager, that foolish to place herself in reach of a whole crew of pirates.

She would need protecting, and that was something Peter Pan couldn't provide her. Hook could, but it was the nature of the situation that had the pirate doubting. Because what if this was exactly what Pan had been counting on, for Hook to take custody of the woman and guard her. The bloody fact of the matter was Hook WOULD guard her, especially if she proved to be an innocent in all this. But even a woman innocent of Pan's manipulations and schemes was trouble, and things would only further complicate the longer she remained in Neverland.

Thinking of all the ways his crew would try to mutiny, Hook finally allowed himself a chance to weigh the enormity of the problem Belle presented. Not just the how and why of her arrival in Neverland, but the how of how exactly Belle was going to get back to wherever she came from. None of these things had easy or even apparent answers, but one thing Hook was certain of was that Belle couldn't remain here indefinitely. Not if he wanted to make sure his crew didn't eventually tear each other apart over her.

It was a very real fear. Hook could be looking at a woman who might prove to be Pan's ultimate weapon against him. Sobering thought that, but Hook couldn't harden his heart entirely against her. Even if it meant he was playing directly into Pan's hands with every act of kindness towards her.

To Be Continued...

*sighs* This chapter gave me all kinds of trouble, and I might come back to tinker with it later. I'm not satisfied with the way it ends, and I kinda feel like I gave up rather than try to keep on going with a chapter that did not want to end.

Okay, to review...I wrote 10 kb, realized it sucked, trashed all but the first two opening paragraphs. Then I wrote a new 10 kb in a different way, cause some of what Hook had thought in the trashed version, I thought might be better to have put elsewhere in the story, maybe sprinkle those thoughts in with a dialogue exchange between him and Belle.

Then I stumbled again, once I got the doctor, Hook and Belle in the same room. I had to trash my attempt there, and try to approach the doctor's attitude in a different way that worked better for me. But then the chapter turned into one that did not want to end...in that I couldn't seem to find a good way to wrap things up. I feel extremely frustrated at the moment.

I've been staring at this chapter for four or five days of aggravation, so now I think I am going to try and take a breathe and relax for a night. Or at least for a few hours, before I dare think of writing anything else. *feels mentally exhausted*

-Michelle

The Elegant Faerie, thank you! I will to the best of my ability. Even when I get super frustrated. X_X

Zerousy, oh my! I never had my writing compared to bacon awesome before! Totally giggled and grinned. Thank you!

Ravengirl07, thanks! Tried to, but the chapter didn't want to come together as easily as three and four did. =/

Hookers, aw thank you! I am glad to hear that! I'm hoping six will be heavy on the Hook Belle interactions. *boots the doctor out of the room*

00Ambrosie00, thank you. I'm glad you like the idea and my attempts at writing it out. :) Thanks again!

Ryunn Kazan, yes romance! But it's probably what is called a slow burn? Thanks for the double comments! :D


	6. Chapter 6

The examination wasn't that bad as far as those things went. Consisting of such things as the checking of her pulse, and the color of her tongue. And then performed was the listening to her heart and lungs, and the shining of a light in her eyes. These were all very basic things, and could hardly be considered intrusive, the doctor doing it all with a stern, professional air. Belle appreciated his manner and the way he treated to her, the man a gentleman even when it came time to examine her shoulder. His eyes solely for the healing wound on her shoulder, the doctor hadn't raised any objections when Belle had only opened the shirt enough to slip the sleeve down to bare one shoulder.

It was still embarrassing as all hell, for he was a doctor but also a stranger to her. She knew nothing of him, of his skill or his reputation. He could have been anything in addition to doctor, a pervert, a quack, or even God forbid, someone completely new to his profession. But he had proven capable enough if going by the fact that Belle was not only alive, but alert now to her surroundings and to the situation she found herself in.

Of course, it was a situation Belle didn't fully understand. She could remember being shot, and the pain that had followed. The echo of Rumplestiltskin screaming her name, and the quieter snarl of another man's voice were also tied into her memories. But somewhere between her slow fall down, and the plunge she took into ice cold waters, things had gotten confused. Belle didn't understand what had happened, or why, but her long association with Rumplestiltskin had taught her how to recognize magic at work.

It didn't lessen her confusion about what had happened. Nor did it offer her any comfort, because magic was costly and unpredictable. Magic tended to do more damage than good, and more often than not warped the desires of the ones who used it. It was a corruptive force, quick to seduce and destroy those weak enough to use it. People might start out with good intentions, but magic was a quick route to getting whatever you wanted. Be it riches, power, or revenge.

With that though in her mind, it was hard for Belle to not glance at the pirate. She'd never consider him good intentioned, and he seemed an easily seduced type. Especially by the promise of something that he craved, a revenge he had longed for for more years than Belle could even imagine. But the thing that confused her, the thing Belle still had trouble understanding, was why was she even still alive?

It just didn't make any sense, Hook having great reason to want her dead. Why go to all this trouble to endanger her, then rescue her, even nurse Belle back to health? What was his game, his true intentions, and how did Belle fit into them? She didn't want to truly consider it, but with the way Hook was watching her, Belle had a feeling magic wasn't the only thing out to do some seducing on this trip.

Which was crazy. And so was the man himself. He had to be, to have threatened her on more than one occasion, and then to actually shoot her. He wanted to hurt, even kill Rumplestiltskin, and Hook had jeopardized Belle's safety more times than she could count. Belle would have to be crazy too, to even think of letting him anywhere near her, but then she didn't seem to have much of a choice so long as she was a prisoner on his ship. And that is what Belle considered herself to be, regardless of Hook's real intentions.

Convinced they were of a dastardly slant, Belle didn't realize the extent of the severity of her situation. She barely had come to grips that she might, MIGHT, be in Neverland, but it hadn't even occurred to her to ask what time period she was currently residing in. Time travel was the furthest thing from her mind, Belle thinking at worst Hook had somehow spirited her away from Rumplestiltskin in an overly grand plan for revenge that was destined to fail.

Not having the slightest clue how far off the mark she truly was, Belle was determined to survive as best she could, until help came or she could rescue herself. The last thing Belle intended to do, was to lounge around weakly in Hook's bed. Even if that was exactly what the doctor thought she should do!

Fighting back a frown, Belle kept her face and her voice from betraying her agitation. "Are you sure, doctor?" She asked, and couldn't stop the clench of her fingers, the blanket over her lap being crushed in the process.

"You've survived the worst of it, it's true." The doctor said in a grave tone of voice. "But you're far from one hundred percent recovered. I'd give it two, maybe three more days of bed rest before I'd feel comfortable with you walking about."

He noticed the way her fingers were mauling the blanket, the doctor's expression softening. "You lost a lot of blood, my lady. Even with my brews at work, your body needs this time to recover." He glanced back at her shoulder, at the stitching over the wound he had just finished inspecting. "Someone wanted to hurt you, maybe even kill you. Don't give them their wish."

She fought not to look past the doctor to the pirate. He hadn't stopped staring at her even one time, and what Belle saw when she did look, was neither guilt nor remorse. It was as though Hook had no feeling about what he had done, or about how close he had come to killing her. Was he truly remorseless, or was he just that good an actor? Did it even matter, or did it help Belle to bolster her anger, help prepare her to deal with a man who would see her dead or worse?

"I won't." Belle managed to say in the silence that followed the doctor's words. It was a heart felt and harsh utterance, Belle meaning every word she had said. She wouldn't give Hook the satisfaction, no matter what his ultimate scheme for revenge was.

The doctor nodded, stern satisfaction in his eyes. He didn't object when Belle pulled her sleeve back in place, his eyes almost approving as Belle quickly closed up the buttons of her borrowed shirt. The pirate's eyes were different, devouring each bit of flesh Belle took back with the shirt's covering. Such a hungry, intent gaze made Belle feel as though she was wearing nothing at all, her fingers again clenching on the velvety feel of the blanket's fabric.

The doctor noticed the angry play of her fingers, but then how could he not? Belle couldn't reign in her upset to stop such an agitated motion, that angry clenching handing Hook one small victory after another. For it let him know just how much he was getting to her, how the staring and this whole situation bothered her. Her fingers ruined the bluff of her calm expression, letting anyone who looked at her know of the private turmoil rolling through her.

The doctor started to say something, then glanced nervously at Hook. He then gave an uneasy half smile, his own fingers fumbling with the tools of his trade. Putting the equipment back piece by piece in his black satchel. Slow and methodical his actions were, Belle realizing his intent was to now leave. She couldn't say the same for the pirate at all, his hot gaze focused, his eyes holding a gleam of some kind of predatory anticipation Belle was sure she wasn't imagining.

"If you need anything..." The doctor didn't quite bow. "Anything at all. Do not hesitate to ask for me."

"I..."

"Connor, a word?" Hook hadn't taken his eyes off of Belle, not even to address the doctor. The doctor, Connor, stiffened but ultimately followed the pirate out of the private alcove. The beads rattled in their wake, a hushed conversation taking place as far away as it was possible to get from the alcove and still remain inside the cabin. Belle strained her ears to catch what was being said, but the whispers were simply too soft for her to pick up.

Being unable to hear what was being said wasn't doing anything for her worry. In fact it only helped to make Belle paranoid, the woman sure they were discussing her and the fate Hook intended to have befall her. She was determined to foil Hook at every turn, Belle twisting about in place, to search the area around the bed. There didn't appear to be anything that she could use to clobber a foul intentioned pirate, not even a book and there was nothing that resembled a weapon within reach.

Belle was starting to think she'd have to resort to smothering him with one of the many pillows that lay in abundance around her, when she heard Hook let out a hearty male laugh. Her eyes widened just slightly, before Belle took control of her expression. She heard him say something that was still soft enough to be muffled, and then the sound of a door opening and closing followed.

The slow measured pace of his booted steps? To Belle it read as if Hook felt he had all the time in the world to do what he wanted to her. Terrified and feeling how truly vulnerable she was in this moment, Belle also felt pure rage. She didn't like feeling helpless, she didn't like being involved in a feud between Hook and Rumplestiltskin, and she especially didn't like being made the victim of a blood vendetta time and time again. She was tired of being a pawn, be it Hook's or the evil queen's. Belle wasn't thinking too straight in the moment, maybe hadn't been since getting shot. She was letting her fears and her anger get the best of her, which might be the only explanation for why she hurled a pillow right at an approaching Hook's face!

The resounding thump as it connected was satisfying, but only for a minute. Because there was only so many pillows, and Hook could only be taken by surprise once by such a projectile. Her hands immediately flew to mouth, muffling her dismayed gasp. Hook stared at her, and thank heavens it wasn't a full out glare. He wasn't shocked, but neither was he amused, Hook just staring at her as though Belle had grown a second head.

"I..." But she wasn't sorry exactly, though Belle might be wishing she hadn't gone so far. Because she felt as though she had thrown down the gauntlet, and it was a challenge Belle was sure Hook would take up. "I..I wasn't..."

"Now this is a first." He said over her stammering attempts to speak. "Attacked with my own pillows from my very own bed. And after I went to so much trouble to make sure you would be comfortable there."

First she just sat there blinking, not sure if relief was yet ready to be embraced. And then his words seem to register, Belle stiffening in response. "Comfortable?! As if I could after YOU put me here in the first place!"

And so began a series of misunderstandings, Hook nodding his head in agreement. "Aye I put you there lass. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"You...you monster!" Belle spat out, for Hook's agreement sounded very much like he was proudly admitting that he had been the one to shoot her.

"I'm many things. But a monster?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Not quite yet."

"Then what would you call yourself?" She demanded, her agitated fingers busy on the blanket. Crushing the velvet so bad, Belle didn't think it would ever get unwrinkled.

"Just a man who is driven." Hook answered. "I'm ruthless and unforgiving, but more than that I am a man with many questions."

"Questions?" She couldn't imagine how many he could possible have, Belle thinking his only questions would have to do with how to kill or get revenge on Rumplestiltskin. And neither thing was something Belle was inclined to help Hook do, regardless of the issues she had with whatever had truly happened to Rumplestiltskin's wife. "I will tell you nothing."

"Nothing?" He quirked an eyebrow, his expression turning amused. "That's a challenge I won't have much luck with resisting."

"You can't make me talk!"

Her defiant outrage only made him chuckle, the pirate resuming his approach. He wasn't even hesitant, as he came to sit on the edge of the bed, his blue eyes focused and determined. "That's where you're wrong, for I am sure the doctor will have no trouble mixing up a brew that would loosen even your tongue."

Her mouth parted on a silent gasp, Belle staring at him appalled. So now he was willing to drug her to get what he wanted? Did his revenge know no bound?

Apparently not, for Hook was quite calm and nonchalant. Casually brushing his fingers near to hers on the bed. Belle trembled but kept herself still, rather than give Hook the satisfaction of recoiling at his nearness. But right now it felt like the only victory she could deny him, Belle knowing no matter what, she couldn't allow him to drug her.

Her course set, her decision showed in her eyes. Hook nodded, his approving smile seeming to mock her. "So glad you've realized the futility of fighting me on this." The anger in her glare only made the light dance in Hook's eyes, the pirate shifting to get more comfortable on the bed. He went so far as to relax against the pillows, but Belle didn't buy for one second his easy going manner.

"Was it Pan who did that to you?" His first question was as confusing as it was unexpected, Belle frowning. Actually wondering if he meant to somehow trick her by not asking right away about Rumplestiltskin.

"Pan?" She repeated, her expression a mirror of her confusion. "Do you mean Peter Pan?" At his nod, her eyes narrowed. "Don't be absurd. A child didn't do this to me."

"He's more than a child, and twice as dangerous as most men I've ever known." Hook retorted. "I wouldn't put it past him at all to attack you..."

"It wasn't him." Belle interrupted. "Never mind that I have no quarrel with a child, with any child, there's only one man I can think of who would purposefully try to hurt me." She paused for a shaky breath, then looked him straight in the eyes. "You."

He had the gall to look surprised. "Me?" Hook asked it with such confusion that Belle began to feel a return of the fury that had taken hold of her earlier. "Love, you are mistaken."

Belle shook her head hard, her brown hair bouncing from the movement. "I am not."

"In this, you are." Hook insisted firmly. He had sat up, reaching a hand out to her. A hand Belle shrank back from, a response that had Hook's eyes widening one second, then narrowing the next. "I would never hurt a woman. I would never even seek to..."

She stared at him, not saying a word. But her eyes said plenty, the accusation and upset centered in them, screaming the truth out at him.

Hook stared at her for a small eternity, before giving the slightest of growls. "Well played, Pan." He said to Belle's confusion, then got up off the bed. He was a motion of agitation, pacing over to the curtain of beads, then abruptly changing his mind just as it seemed he would leave her alone in the alcove.

"Of course, I always knew that brat was capable of just about anything." Hook said out loud. "But to go so far as to slander my reputation, and in this way?" He sneered and scoffed, but still hadn't actually looked back to Belle. "What next Pan? What next will you do when that too fails?"

"What are you talking about?" Belle demanded, incensed that she wasn't truly understanding him.

"Simply that it wasn't I who shot you, dear lady." He had stopped his pacing, his blue gaze focused once again on her.

"I know what I..."

"Yes, I'm sure it looked and sounded like me." Hook interrupted her. "But Pan is a master at deceiving."

Which is more then could be said about the pirate, Belle both wanting to laugh and fume over Hook's bad attempts to fool her with his badly thought out lies. "You think me a fool." She said out loud, and Hook immediately returned to the bed.

"Never that, my lady." Hook tried to be reassuring. "But Pan and his lies, his casual way of manipulating all around him, can get the best of us all." His eyes searched her face, and then Hook nodded. "But I can see you're not ready to believe. No, I don't fault you for that. Trust is not something you should give away easily, and that's doubly true for a man you believed could have hurt you."

She was frowning again. "What's your game, pirate? Why go to all this trouble, and attempt such a bad manipulation? You have to know I won't fall for your lies, and won't give you what you think you need." It was reckless to be baiting him like this, but at least Belle hadn't finished up her speech with clams that he was best served if she was dead.

He wasn't deterred by what she did say, Hook nodding once more. "Of course it can't be that easy. I'll have to work if I want to earn your trust."

She parted her lips, ready to snarl that that would never happen, when Hook touched her lips to stop her angry retort from being voiced. "But lass? You'll also have to be earning mine!"

"Yours" A jerk back from him and then she was scoffing. "It's not my character that should be called into question!"

"I'm not maligning you or your character." Hook was calm in his retort. "But I'd be a fool to just take you at face value, especially when it seems Pan went to a great deal of trouble to not only bring you here, but set you against me."

"Your Peter Pan has nothing to do with this!" Belle insisted. "I know what-who tried to kill me! I'm just lucky you were such a bad shot, or I would really be dead!" She fixed him with her most suspicious look. "Or was this too a part of your diabolical plan?"

"You anger and outrage is directed towards the wrong person." Hook told her. "Love..." Again his hand reached for her, Belle smacking it away before the touch on her cheek could happen.

"Don't try to touch me!" Belle hissed.

His hand closed into a fist for one second, before Hook gave the barest of nods. "All right, I can understand why you might not be wanting me to touch you. Especially given your...misconceptions on what you think happened."

"Think nothing, I KNOW!"

"But I give you my word of honor, as a gentleman, it was not I who tried to kill you." The look Hook then gave her was such that Belle kept from laughing, even though her first impulse was to mock him and his so called gentleman's honor.

"Nor..." he continued after a poignant pause. "Will I allow any one of my crew to get away with harming you."

"Is this more of your gentleman's honor?" Belle wondered out loud. Hook nodded in reply, and Belle then blew out a long breathy sigh. "It won't work, you know." She began to confide to him. "I'm on to you, and I won't ever trust you. I'm not that foolish."

"I'm willing to wager a tidy sum that you'll be eating those words soon enough." Hook said with a chuckle. "Neverland is a harsh and unforgiving place, especially to those who don't have friends to help them navigate it's treacherous perils."

A chill went through her to hear that, but Belle chose not to acknowledge it out loud. "Neverland?" She asked instead. "Then we really are in Neverland?"

"Yes, but to be more precise, we currently sail the briny deep known as the Never Sea. It'll be days before there's any chance of land, and that's if the weather be holding up as nice as it has been."

Belle had to hold on to her anger, to the warmth it's fire gave her. Otherwise she would sag in place, her disappointment and fear overwhelming her. Just the idea of being Hook's prisoner was upsetting, but to hear that she had been taken from Storybrooke? That she was with him in a realm so far removed from any Belle had ever known, that most people hadn't even realized Neverland truly existed? It was something short of devastating.

So devastating in fact, Belle didn't quite hear Hook's next comment. She was distracted and staring without truly seeing, Hook's voice coming from a distance. She would have frowned if she could understand, would have wondered why Hook was making conversation about things he had already surely known.

"That accent of yours marks you as having spent time in one of the Northern forest kingdoms." He was saying. "But I admit, there's a particular twang to your accent that leaves me baffled as to which kingdom exactly you come from."

Hook's expression didn't so much as flicker with emotion at Belle's silence. If her lack of response truly bothered him, he had decided not to show it. "Of course I suspect that with all the time that has passed, there's been ample opportunity for new towns and settlements to crop up."

"I'd love a chance to update my maps." Hook continued, then laughed. "I fear the two hundred years that have since passed have rendered them all but useless." He idly stroked the blanket, careful to keep his fingers just out of reach of hers. "Of course time is such a tricky thing here in Neverland. I often forget just how much of it has truly passed. It'd be what..., the late seventeen hundreds by now?"

The time was off, even if one accounted for the twenty eight years the Evil Queen's curse had taken from them. By Belle's own reckoning, they should be in the Enchanted Realm's Renaissance period on the cusp of the tail end of the eighteen hundreds.

"What year would you say?" Belle asked, and whipped her head around to stare at Hook. She wasn't yet leaping to conclusions, wasn't yet thinking in any way of time travel, or the fact she might have somehow ended up in Neverland's past.

"Hmm?" His hand stroked closer to hers. "I haven't been the best at keeping precise track, but it would be around seventeen hundred ninety something." He reacted to the panicked look she gave him, Belle suddenly taking a gasping, gulping breath of air.

"No." She said, then yelled it when he tried to take hold of her hand. "No!"

"Belle, love?" He was concerned, taking her into his arms, even as she fought and thrashed about.

"You're lying to me!" Belle was saying, her eyes welling up with tears. "You have to be!" She suddenly collapsed with a raw cry of pain, Belle fighting not to break down completely. He hauled her against his chest, actually petted fingers over her hair. His attempts at comforting her were all the worst, Belle this much closer to sobbing. Because things were making themselves known, details she had been content to ignore, that she still wanted to dismiss. Because it was better to pretend than even contemplate the full truth of what had happened, and yet Belle was recalling how different Hook looked from the last time she had seen him. Then Hook had been bruised, and bloody, with cuts and abrasions on his face, and even a black eye. The Hook that held her now, had none of it, not even the bruising about his eye, and Belle was certain enough time hadn't gone by for him to heal so completely.

But she was in no way ready to accept, no way ready to believe. Even as another detail worried it's way into her awareness, Belle wondering if this Hook was without guilt and remorse over what had happened to her, because he wasn't the same Hook that had shot her in Storybrooke. It would explain his behavior, the concern he had shown over her. He worried for her, because he didn't know who she was, what connection she had to his enemy, and thus had no reason to hate her or want her dead.

This Hook wasn't her enemy. Not yet. But if he were to find out the truth? Of who she was, what she meant to his enemy, and where she came from? Belle shivered in his embrace, positive this Hook would be as quick to kill as the Hook of the future had been intent on. She made a silent vow then and there, Belle swearing to herself that Hook would never learn the full truth of her origins from her. She didn't yet comprehend how difficult an oath it would be to keep, hadn't yet plumbed the depths of the pirate's curiosity about her. Nor had Belle yet to think things through, to consider the opportunity this situation offered her. Because Hook wasn't the only with questions, and Belle had a curiosity to match his where Rumplestiltskin's dead wife was concerned.

But for now she was far from ready to seize at the chance to find out the full sordid history behind the feud. She was too exhausted from her shock, her emotions playing havoc with her ability to think. Belle merely sat there, feeling awkward in the embrace of Hook's arms, too tired to even be grateful that he had stopped all attempts at questions and conversation.

To Be Continued!

This one got written faster, hurrah! But halfway through I started doubting and worrying I contradicted something in three. Mainly it was the part where they exchange names, but I decided Belle was still a bit disoriented and upset so hadn't registered how strange it might be that he was asking for her name.

Overall I like this chapter, and much much more than five! I'm still worried a little about the angle I was exploring, (The whole Belle didn't realize she was in the past.) but overall I am satisfied.

I feel like I had more to say, but my mind is kinda drawing a blank right now. ^^;;

Oh! I remembered in the middle of spell checking. The time periods I made up, since I have no idea if they ever actually said what year it could have been in the Enchanted Forest Realm.

-Michelle

The Elegant Faerie, thanks again my dear. :) And finally some Hook Belle interactions that were longer than a few seconds/paragraphs. Hoorah! :D Though it was still very much a setting up the situation Belle finds herself in chapter. X_X But hopefully it reads well.

Ryunn Kazan, well I think she could wrap them up in one on one interactions. But get a group of them, and that pirate mob mentality could take over...Yikes!

Angelfan984, *giggles* Good cause he's not supposed to be a likeable character. I was trying to set up someone who is very miserable about his situation, and takes it out on everyone around him. And yes, trouble abounds! In more way than one...XD


	7. Chapter 7

Belle's hair was soft like silk under his rough and calloused hand, Hook's fingers combing a soothing path through the brown waves of it. The woman trembled against him, then made a sound that might have been a muffled complaint. She wasn't accepting easily the comfort Hook tried to give her, Belle holding herself stiff but not still in his embrace. Shifting constantly as though testing the strength of his arms, Belle clearly ready to pull back at the first sign of weakness in them. Hook knew he should take the hint and let her do just that, but he was enjoying the act of holding her too much.

It was a novelty he thought would never wear thin. Not even if Hook were to embrace her ten more times, or a hundred. His arms, nay his very body, luxuriated in the feel of her, and her squirming attempts to get free were only adding to the experience. Her hair rubbed against his chin, and the breasts he had admired more times than Hook cared to admit to, brushed constantly against his chest. He could feel her every breath, her breasts heaving with every inhale and exhale.

Belle's breasts alone were nearly Hook's undoing, but when he considered the fact that all the woman really wore was a shirt borrowed from him, and the flimsiest scrap of fabric to ever be called a pair of panties? It was all Hook could do to keep from groaning out loud, Belle a far greater temptation awake and half dressed, then when she had been near naked and unconscious in his bed.

The temptation then had been but a dull throb to what he felt now. Something fierce and hungry, and not easily tamed. It made his blood wild, hot, Hook unable to be satisfied with just the holding of her. His arms banded like steel around her, keeping Belle pressed against a body that was starved for such contact. Her squirming response only sent a repressed shudder through him, Hook barely able to remember the reason that had been cause for his arms going around her in the first place.

This lusty haze that clouded his mind wasn't good. It distracted him from what Hook had set out to do, brought him closer to forgetting he was a gentleman first when it came to the ladies. But most of all, it reminded Hook that his crew weren't the only pirates to have gone too long without a woman. It reminded him of a need Hook hadn't been aware of having, his lust and sexual desires long thought dormant. Now here in this room, in this bed, they were reborn, with a sharp intensity Hook had been unprepared for.

Caught off guard by them, by Belle, was it any wonder he reacted to her? By her closeness, and the voluptuous feel of her well crafted form? Squirming about, with the sweet scent of her hair in his nose, her lush form an invitation that would need a stronger man than Hook to resist. For the first time in what felt like forever, the fit of his pants grew uncomfortable, the snug leather now unbearable and Hook was a bad, bad man to be getting so aroused when the woman was so clearly upset and bothered by him and the situation she found herself in.

It was an upset she had a right to, what with her abduction and near fatal plunge into the sea, and the attack on her shoulder that had almost been the death of her. Pan had risked her life more times than Hook cared to count, the pirate well aware of how much could have gone wrong if his ship had been a little less slow, his crew a little less able, his doctor any more incompetent.

It was a miracle Belle had survived. That she had kept on surviving no matter what. Pan couldn't have picked a better pawn for his games, or fixed a better scheme towards turning Belle against Hook before they had ever even met. She didn't trust him, might not even like him, and most of all it was clear Belle feared Hook. It would take work to change all three, but right now Hook wasn't close to making strides of any kind. Especially with him holding her, the embrace having gone past what was acceptable, lasting longer than it should have, and proving anything but comforting.

To her or to him, Hook's feelings torn, somewhere between wanting her and pushing her away. Both were strong, as was the fear that nipped at their heels, Hook ever so afraid of the wanting, and the hurt that could follow. He didn't want to care, didn't want to feel, and Hook risked exactly that by getting involved with Belle in any way.

Well aware of how much more it would hurt if feelings of any kind were involved, Hook tensed in place, willing ice to flow through him, and cool the fire that raged and threatened to consume him whole. It wasn't easy to calm down, and letting go of Belle hardly satisfied the arousal her squirming had caused. When she fell back away from him, Hook longed to follow, to cover her with his body, to pin her in place with his weight. He wanted to do more than just lay on top of her, the pirate wanted to take, and to ravish, and to be consumed.

Instead he controlled himself, though just barely. Staring at her with an expression that wasn't calm, and wasn't controlled, his breath rasping out of him a little too fast, a little too excited. It didn't help her fear of him, Belle staring at him wide eyed and frantic. Hook was torn as to whether her fear was a good thing or bad, wanting her close but knowing she should run for the sake of them both.

But her fear was keeping her rooted to the spot, Belle laying where she had fallen, propped up only by her arms. She had to know the struggle that was going through him, even if Belle was currently incapable of understanding why Hook would hesitate for even a moment. And he did hesitate, the memories not letting him forget old pain and fears, or the fact that Pan had placed Belle in jeopardy several times already just to get Hook's attention.

That thought was finally the ice water needed, Hook remembering Mila and how much it had hurt when she had died. He couldn't, wouldn't get involved with another, especially a woman whose life Pan toyed with so casually. It would be nothing to that monster to kill Belle off once her purpose in Neverland was served, and Hook couldn't play into Pan's hands. Not with developing feelings for the woman, and not with letting his crew tear themselves apart fighting over Belle.

It was a hard path to travel, and already Hook had stumbled. But who could blame him when Belle was lovely, lush, and ripe for the taking? Who wouldn't have reacted to a beauty such as hers? Who wouldn't kill to hold for just one second a soft squirming bundle of such curvaceous delights? Hook was no less a man for the wanting of her, though it was a desire he had to master and contain. It would be a problem otherwise, and could cost him so much, his sanity most of all.

Because of a woman, his sanity, his very self had nearly been destroyed. He wasn't willing to let it happen again, wasn't content to even risk the chance of losing it or another person. And Hook certainly wasn't going to let this desire and attraction become anything more. It would be too devastating otherwise, too risky a gamble for even a pirate to take. He would stay the course of his revenge, and Pan could run himself ragged with his schemes, manipulations, and over all interference.

As for Belle, she was not Hook's enemy. But neither could she be his friend. For even friendship was too much to ask for, the lines between it and lovers too easily crossed. He had to hold Belle at a distance, had to fight this startling strong attraction, all in order to protect his own heart.

It wasn't a feat that would in any way be easy, his heart still so fragile. The scars across it were still healing, but there had been a time when the damage was so raw, so new that Hook wouldn't have reacted to Belle at all. He just wouldn't have cared, one way or another. Back then it wouldn't have mattered, a woman's beauty or vulnerability, feminine wiles wasted on the pirate. But now things had proven different, Hook realizing enough time had gone by to heal the outermost layer of his wounds.

Hook was far from fixed though. He still burned for revenge, still mourned for his lost love. And Hook hurt enough to be cautious in the face of his newly rekindled desires. He thought to master them, to keep in control, and Hook actually lied to himself that it would be easy now that the shock of their return had passed.

For now he was ready to believe in the lie, forgetting the strength of desire, the lure of lust. In some ways the pirate had much to learn, lessons both new and old, enough time passing that Hook underestimated the power of attraction. It wasn't a switch one could flip on and off at will, and it's rules were different for each and every one. What one might find irresistible, another might be bored by, and just because one person felt it's pull, it didn't mean the other would reciprocate.

Not as magical as true love, attraction could still be the foundation of something more, or the curse of the unrequited. Obsession had been born because of misguided attraction, and some had done vile, evil things in the name of it. Attraction was practically an entity in it's own right, able to devastate as well as enrich. What chance did a still healing pirate stand against it, or the woman placed in his path?

None, if Hook was honest. But he kept on lying to himself, convinced it would all work out the way the pirate intended, the way Hook willed it to be. Master of the seas, and of this ship, why wouldn't his desires be just as easily conquered? But fate sought to not only tempt him but actively taunted Hook, Belle letting a nervous flick of her tongue touch on her bottom lip. All his hard sought control fled, Hook letting out a soft groan that brought the alarm ratcheting up higher within the woman.

His eyes on her lips, Hook brought his hand to scrub across his face. It was an agitated move, and did nothing to alleviate the tension he felt. He knew there were things he should be doing, questions he should be asking, and instead here Hook was, all but flailing before Belle like a boy with his first crush.

Annoyed with himself, with the situation, with HER, Hook let out a deep breath before offering Belle his hand. She maintained her frightened stare, and made not one move towards his hand. His impatience showed, Hook all but grabbing at Belle's arm to ease her up into a sitting position. He wasn't as gentle as he should have been, the woman wince's freezing him on the spot. It wasn't until after he moved to open her shirt, that Hook remembered Belle's injury belonged to the shoulder of her other arm.

Wretch that he was, Hook couldn't bring himself to say he was sorry. For anything that had happened in this bed, as disturbing as that was, Hook leaping at the chance for any excuse to touch and hold Belle. He still couldn't stop himself entirely, brushing his fingertips over the exposed column of her throat before abruptly refastening the buttons in place.

"All better now." Hook said gruffly, without any explanation as to what he had been trying to do. But then there wasn't much he could say, and Hook was sure Belle wouldn't have appreciated knowing just how badly he wanted her, or how far he was willing to go for just a touch of her smooth skin. It would possibly get him smacked, and would definitely result in furthering the woman's upset.

Ignoring the trouble and unease in her eyes, or at least trying to, Hook eased away from her. Perhaps not as far as he should, but then would anywhere on this ship be far enough away for them both? It was a question to ponder some other time, Hook needing to focus, and not allow his thoughts to be swept away on a tangent.

"So..." He began slowly, trying to remember what they had been discussing before Belle had had her unexpected and emotional breakdown. Something about the year, something so small and inconsequential that it had been shocking the way Belle had reacted. Hook couldn't imagine why she would get so upset, and about that in particular, but he wasn't eager for a repeat performance even if it meant her hysteria would give him a reason to hold her once more.

"The Northern Forest Kingdom was it?" He watched Belle blink owlishly in surprise, as though what he had said was the last thing she had been expecting. "It's been years since I've visited what had once been King Olaf's territories but then..." Hook forced out a chuckle. "It's been years since I've set sail beyond Neverland's seas."

He wasn't truly expecting a response, at least not this soon. Hook was merely trying to break the silence, and dispel some of the awkward tension between them. But Belle surprised him by speaking up, her voice slightly hesitant as though she too was struggling to remember.

"You...you said it was what...two hundred years?"

"At the very least!" Hook said with an affirmative nod. "I've done my best to stay abreast of the years, but Neverland's time is such, that it is easy to lose track of it."

"Is it really that easy?"

"Quite so." Was Hook's answer. "Clocks stop their tick, and calendars are all but useless here. If it wasn't for the rise and fall of the sun, even the days would have lost their meaning."

"But surely time passes." Belle was quick to argue.

"In the world outside of Neverland." Hook retorted. "But here? In the land of eternal spring? It doesn't exist."

"How is that even possible?" Belle asked. "Time is the one thing all creatures must answer to."

"I can think of a few exceptions." Hook muttered in a dark tone, thinking then of Rumplestiltskin and what that coward had become. The Dark One, a creature that was said to be immortal, whose very veins ran with a magic most ancient and evil.

He didn't notice the way Belle shivered in response, the woman shaking her head no. "It's unnatural and would take a great deal of evil magic."

"Is it the magic that is evil, or is it the intent of the one who uses it that makes it so?" Hook challenged out loud.

Belle frowned. "Magic is a corruptive force."

"But some have used it for good."

"Such stories of that are far and few in between." Belle argued. "How many heroes do you know, that have used it in any way other than sparingly?"

"I'll concede the point to you on that, my lady." Hook said in all seriousness. "Though I had hoped such things had changed during my time away for too often was magic in our land cast by an evil hand."

His tone almost causal, Hook began listing several noteworthy names, all witches and sorcerers known for their cruel and terrible deeds. "Ursula, Morticai, Gandori, and the Blood Baron. Each one more evil than the last."

"Their deeds pale in comparison to the ones who came after." Belle muttered, but she didn't offer up any names.

"I'm sorry to hear it." Hook said it so honestly, Belle's eyes lit up with surprise. "It's a frightening thought to think there could be an evil so vile to usurp the Blood Baron from his throne."

"He..he liked to kill children."

"Bathed in their blood, and used the remains for the most evil of his spells." added Hook. "He was still in power deep in the mountain kingdoms when I left the land, and I can only imagine how his legacy would have grown since."

"He didn't hold on to his power for long." Belle said, and her lips twitched. "A great man, one who would right the wrongs committed against children, put an end to the Blood Baron and his reign of terror."

"A noble deed, and one I am glad to hear of." replied Hook. "Tell me, who was this man? And what power did he use against the Blood Baron?"

Hook saw how she hesitated, though he couldn't at all claim to understand why. What problem could Belle possibly have with answering such questions? Why did they bring such a troubled look to her eyes, and why did Hook get the feeling she was about to lie?

"The details escape me at the moment." Hook fixed her with a look of disbelief, the woman shrugging in response. "From all accounts the hero was a modest man, one who didn't seek fame, praise, or accolades. He did what he had to, in order to save the children."

"I suppose the name doesn't matter." Hook conceded. "Though I would love to know what sort of magical talisman or weapon he brought to bear against the Blood Baron."

"That is something few people truly know of." It wasn't a lie, not exactly, but Hook also sensed Belle was covering for how much she truly knew.

"And you?" Hook challenged, his intent gaze on her, missing nothing of her reaction. "Do you know?"

"Me?" Belle asked, and gave a forced little laugh. "Why would I know? I'm just a woman." She added, as if Hook needed a reminder of that fact.

"Not just a woman." Hook retorted, then smiled at her quizzical look. "Pan chose you after all."

"Pan?" She lifted a slim brow at that. "I've never even met him."

"You may not have been formally introduced, but make no mistake, you've met. You wouldn't be here if you hadn't."

"Here?" Belle questioned, giving a pointed look to the bed.

"Neverland." clarified Hook. "No one ends up in Neverland without a reason. Pan wanted you here. Not only that, he went to a lot of trouble to put you in my path, nearly killed you to do it." He nodded when she noticeably shivered. "Aye, you have a right to be frightened. He only looks like a boy, but inside? He's evil to the core."

"And what about you?"

"Me?" Hook laughed. "I'm pirate, love, but I am not without morals. Gray though they be, it's still a far cry short of the evil demons like Pan and the Blood Baron are capable of."

"Shooting an innocent woman in cold blood is plenty enough evil for me." Belle said primly.

"Pan may intend to do a lot worse than shoot you."

"That doesn't matter, because it wasn't he who shot me!" She retorted, her eyes blazing with an anger directed towards him.

"I know what you think happened. But it wasn't me. Pan changes face when it suits him, and for some reason he wants you to think of me as your enemy. But I'm not."

"It.."

"It's not that easy to trust, I know." Hook interrupted her. "But my desire here is to help you rather than hurt you."

"Help me how?" She was still suspicious, but that was to be expected.

"Get you back to where you belong, for one thing." Hook answered. "Of course it's not as easy as sailing my ship out of these inhospitable waters. I can't leave Neverland, I won't. Not without getting what I need."

"And what is that?" Belle asked.

"A magic strong enough to kill a very specific type of monster." Hook answered, watching the way Belle's fingers abruptly clenched together to form a white knuckled fist. "It's nothing you need to worry about, but I can't help but wonder if you could help me with that goal."

"Me? Help you?" She actually scoffed. "Don't be absurd."

"Stranger things have happened, especially here in Neverland." Hook answered with a grim smile. "You may be holding the answer, and not even know it." He reached into his coat's right pocket, his eyes on Belle the entire time. He saw her tense at his movement, but Hook couldn't hazard a guess as to the reason why.

"That's..." She abruptly stopped, staring at the thing that sat on the open palm of his hand.

"This is what did that to your shoulder." Hook said, watching Belle rather than look at the cylindrical shaped piece of silver his hand now held.

"It's deadly, but hardly magic." Belle answered.

"Not magic?" Hook was in doubt of that. "Then what is it?"

"It's...It's a bullet." She answered in a matter of fact tone. "You put it in a gun, aim it something, and shoot."

"And a gun would be what exactly?"

"It's a weapon. Something specifically engineered to fire bullets out at the force needed to pierce flesh." explained Belle. "It's only as harmful as the intent of the person who uses it."

"Sounds like magic to me." Hook announced, and Belle shook her head no.

"It's not. For one thing, even a fool can use a gun. But unlike a sword or say a bow, you don't need a lot of training to use one." Her expression became a glower then. "Certainly the fool who shot me didn't know enough to be proficient at it's use, or otherwise I'd already be dead."

"Careful love." Hook cautioned. "I'll not tolerate you calling me that, regardless of the circumstances."

Belle's tone of voice became syrupy sweet. "I thought you insisted you weren't the one to shoot me? Or are you ready to drop that pretense?"

"There's no pretense needed, because it wasn't I who did that to you. But I also am well aware of what you think happened, and by whose hand you think this...this bullet came from."

"Hmph." Belle blew out a huffy breath. "Whatever the case, a bullet is not going to stop most monsters. Especially the ones with magic."

"Shame." Hook muttered, before putting the odd piece of silver back in his pocket. "Looks like we'll be stuck with each other for a while yet." She didn't try to hide her confusion, Hook smirking. "With this bit of magic..."

"It's NOT magic!"

"Whatever." Hook retorted. "With it ruled out as a viable means to put an end to my monster, it also rules out any chance of us returning to the Enchanted Realm." Belle actually fidgeted in place, her upset and disappointment easily read on her face. "There there, lass." He said, and only just kept from reaching out to touch her. "It won't be so bad, with ole Captain Hook here to protect you."

"That's all well and good, captain." Her tone was bitter, her glare fierce. "But who exactly is going to protect me from YOU?!"

It was a good question, and not just because she believed Hook had been the one to shoot her. His little stunt on his bed, where Hook had all but molested her, rather than offer true comfort to Belle? It had done nothing to endear him to her, might have even reminded Belle of how alone and vulnerable she truly was on his ship.

It was facts he didn't know how to reassure her against, and he all but leapt off the bed, when the familiar knock sounded on the cabin's door. Smee's arrival couldn't have been more timely, the old pirate inadvertently saving Hook from having to answer Belle's barbed accusation. But it couldn't save him from thinking about it, and worrying, Hook wondering how they were both going to protect their hearts against each other.

To Be Continued...

I had fun with this chapter, even if I am doubting I made a mistake writing this. XD I just hate that I worry and doubt so much.

Oh yeah, a minor change to six. I mistakenly put down Belle saying it would be the end of the middle of the 1800's...rather it would be near the end of the 1800's, as I am imagining she went back about one hundred years in time. I've since corrected that typo, and uploaded an updated version of the chapter. But it's the only change there, and minor like I said.

-Michelle

Angelfan984, oh man when I read your review, I got to be honest, I worried it was my fault you didn't realize time travel was involved. I kept picturing how confused everyone must be, if they didn't realize time travel was part of the storyline.

As for Belle being upset, yeah a bit of that, and also she's had a lot happen to her in a short amount of time, is in shock, and her emotions are all out of whack. So to learn that not only is she not in Storybrooke, but with Hook, in Neverland, and then to find out she's not even in her own time period? Well of course she'd freaked out and maybe even cry. Plus it gave me an excuse for Hook to hold her! *chortles merrily even though that is a part I doubted. Doubted but had way too much fun writing. I'm still doubting though.*

Thank you so much by the way. Your review is ever so appreciated! *hugs*

The Elegant Faerie, whoo hoo! Glad you loved the last chapter! I was pretty happy with it too. But then I always get super happy when a chapter proves easy to write, especially after a chapter that was a pain in my butt to write like five was. Seven went pretty easy with the writing process too, so I'm pretty happy even with my worrying.


	8. Chapter 8

The knock on the door, while sudden and unexpected, couldn't have come at a better time. Especially for the pirate, who all but fell off the bed in his haste to respond. Belle watched him go, the curtain of beads rattling noisily in protest at the speed in which they had been disturbed. The strands would continue to bump into each other long after Hook had passed, their noisy click clack competing with the beat of Belle's furious heart.

Her heart was an echo of what she was feeling, the inner turmoil and upset that had fear lacing ribbons around Belle. She was angry yes, but also hurt and bewildered, with a healthy dose of shock running through her. The shock she couldn't really afford to wallow in, her wits needing to be sharp to deal with the pirate and any questions he might ask. It was questions that needed answers that would be satisfactory to them both, questions Belle wasn't sure how to answer for herself let alone for Hook but she knew the full truth wasn't an option. And not just because Belle didn't understand how this trip through time had come to happen, but because of her connection to Rumplestiltskin, the pirate's hated and sworn enemy.

It was truly frightening to Belle to even consider what Hook might do to her should the full truth come out. He had already tried to kill her once, or at least the Hook of the future had. Belle didn't want to have the added trouble of the Hook of this time period also turning murderous towards her. Of course the alternative didn't seem much more appealing, Belle actually shivering as she thought over the way the pirate had been acting towards her since she had awakened onboard his ship. Overly solicitous and staring, quick to touch and even quicker to react, Hook showed all the signs of wanting her.

That wanting was as big a problem as his potential to turn murderous towards her, Belle not at all liking the way Hook had stared at her. With a look of a starved man that had found something to finally satisfy all his hungers, Belle some creamy treat that Hook wanted to devour. It was unsettling, upsetting to realize, and even worse to experience the way Hook watched her every move. It made a knot of unease ball up in her chest, Belle unable to breath right so long as she was under his keen scrutiny.

It was why she too had felt real relief when the knock at the door had come, Hook having scrambled away in much the way Belle had desired too. But there was no peace in his going, Belle remaining unsettled. Remembering her barbed inquiry, and the fact that Hook had not been able to give her an answer, and the fact that just a few minutes earlier, he had had his arms around her and had been excited by the act.

More than excited, if judging by the signs of his body. The moan, the rasping breath, and worse yet, the fact that she had brushed against what had clearly been the hard proof of his arousal. Already aware of her vulnerable position here on his ship, Belle had been downright terrified to think there was nothing to stop him from taking things further then a hug. There still wasn't, Hook having all time and opportunity in the world to do what came naturally to a pirate. And he had in effect warned her, pointing out that pirates take what they want. A fact she had already known, pirates infamous in the kingdoms for their looting, pillaging, and raping ways.

With that firmly in mind, it hadn't been just anger or a need to be defiant that had Belle back talking at Hook. It had been fear, Belle truly wanting to know what-who would protect her from Hook. Be it from his lust, or his revenge, neither one seeming better than the other. She could turn him easily from lust with the truth, but then that same truth would then most likely see Belle dead. And she refused to die for Hook's revenge, and Rumplestiltskin's mistakes.

Her will to live strong, Belle hoped she could survive Hook and Neverland long enough to get back to her own time and place. She didn't know what was happening in Storybrooke, if Rumplestiltskin even had a clue as to what had truly happened to Belle. But she had to hang on to the hope that he would find a way to bring her back, some bit of magic she didn't yet know about. He was the Dark One after all, and if anyone could do the impossible, it was he. His magic unlike anything, anyone else's, in the entirety of the Enchanted Realm's kingdoms.

That magic had been well hungered after, people time and time again desperate enough to seek Rumplestiltskin out. Some tried to take what he had, but most weren't that stupid. Instead of resorting to stealing, they tried to bargain with him, an act Rumplestiltskin had delighted in. Currying favors, calling in debts, Rumplestiltskin as the Dark One fulfilled dreams then turned most into nightmares as he lined the pieces and players into place. It was only fairly recently that Belle had learned the truth of Rumplestiltskin's deal making and manipulations, his quest for his son justifying much in the Dark One's eyes.

Knowing the truth hadn't made it easier for Belle to accept a lot of the things Rumplestiltskin had done, that he still sometimes did. But she understood, now knew he was motivated by the love of a father for his lost son. She hung onto that love, to the belief of it, even when it hurt her in turn. Painful though it was, that love also made sense of things that had once seemed irrational, even insane. Belle fervently hoped that love would help her to once again make sense of something, a horrific thing that was by all accounts an unspeakable crime. Belle's heart would break if there wasn't some way to explain, to justify the death-the murder of Rumplestiltskin's own wife.

Belle shivered every time she so much as thought about the idea of Rumplestiltskin murdering Mila in cold blood. Her heart had been in turmoil from the moment of Hook's revelation, Belle reeling and frightened, disturbed at the very idea, and by the thought that she might be in love with a man capable of doing such a thing. A part of her had been in shock from the moment Hook had uttered that frightening claim, while another had been in pure denial. Some part of her still wanted to deny everything Hook had told her, and that same part was scared of the opportunity that lay with the Hook of the past. The chance to find out more, to learn the full details of what had went down the day Mila had been murdered.

Scared to learn the truth, scared to NOT, Belle was a tense ball of emotion and fears. It made thinking difficult, in a time when she needed to be smart, Belle wishing she had more time to herself away from the pirate and his curiosity and lust. But time wasn't on her side in this, Hook already returning. And with him, two steps behind, was another, much older pirate. A man that Belle had to fight to keep from reacting too, and still her wary dislike showed as she looked at the red capped wearing Smee.

He looked no different here than when he had kidnapped her back in Storybrooke. His eyes still gleamed with that deceptive kindness and concern, Smee looking harmless. But he was not. Belle's fingers didn't quite clench, the woman remember how Smee had nearly succeeded in sending her over the boundary which would have wiped out not only her memories but her very identity. He might have been acting under her father's orders, but she still couldn't forgive Smee. Not even now, when it was before Smee had acted to do such a horrible thing. He was a pirate after all, and they were without scruples in the best of circumstances. But add money or worse yet revenge to the table, and a pirate was capable of just about anything.

With that thought in mind, Belle looked downright defiant in response to Hook and Smee's approach. She didn't relax when Hook stepped aside to reveal what Smee was carrying, the older pirate holding a tray that held a mug of something steaming, and a bowl of some kind of stew that's delicious smell made Belle's mouth water despite herself.

It left her torn in three directions, Belle trying to keep an eye on both pirates and the tray. Her hunger won out, Belle realizing it must have been days since she had had the chance to eat something solid.

Her hungry reaction to the tray did not go unnoticed, Hook chuckling softly in response. "Smee was right to hazard a guess you'd be wanting something more substantial than just tea."

"It was an easy enough guess to make." The man, Smee said, his cheeks rosy with a flush of pleasure at his captain's words. "I said to myself, the lady's bound to be starved with nothing but the doctor's medicines in her belly."

The tray was brought before her, with it's hearty portion of meat stew, and chunks of white bread dipped in the brown colored sauce. It smelled wonderful, to the point it was all Belle could do to keep from gobbling it all down in a few bites.

"Easy love..." Hook cautioned. "There's no need to make yourself sick trying to eat it all at once."

She very nearly blushed in response to that, a mortified Belle forcing herself to slow down and actually enjoy the taste of the food. It was well worth the effort, the stew perhaps the best thing she had tried in recent memory, and that included the hamburgers at Granny's! The comparison brought on what might be the first pang of homesickness Belle had ever felt for Storybrooke, the woman wondering how, IF she would ever get back to that time and place.

Her unhappiness showed, the sad frustration drawing Hook closer to her. She quickly put another spoonful of stew in her mouth, to stave off if not the question, than the answer she had to carefully give.

"What's wrong, love?"

Chewing slowly, Belle merely shrugged her shoulders in response. Admitting she had felt homesick, even for a brief second, seemed out of the question. It would bring up too many questions, Hook having already professed an interest in figuring out just where exactly in the Enchanted Realm's many kingdoms, Belle had come from.

"Just can't remember the last time I tasted something this good..."

The bed creaked with the weight of Hook added to it, the pirate leaning in close to her. The blunt curve of his hook gently touched under her chin, the pirate urging Belle to look up at him.

"Now that be an evasion if ever I heard one." He smiled though, his eyes dancing with an amused light. "Now what is the real thing troubling you?"

She watched his eyes glance briefly at her mouth, Belle having begun to bite down nervously on her bottom lip. Her face grew hot in response, Belle jerking away from the pirate and the hook he was named after.

"Belle?"

"I'm just..." She finally settled on what to say. "Just wondering if I will ever get to leave Neverland."

"So quick and eager to want to leave...but then I suppose I can't blame you." Hook had lowered his arm. "After all Pan has done to you...ah but then you think I am to blame."

"Aren't you?" Belle demanded hotly, at the same instant Smee spoke up in surprise.

"You captain? But why?!"

Hook didn't even look towards the other pirate. "Pan has been playing games."

"Nothing unusual about that." huffed Smee.

"Ah but this time he's gone so far as to manipulate events so that our sweet guest here thinks I am to blame for her misfortunes." Hook continued in a pleasant tone of voice. "You see Smee, he's made the lady here think I was the one who tried to kill her."

Belle heard Smee's outrage gasp, then turned to look at the sputtering pirate. "The captain would NEVER! And certainly not to a lady!" Smee grew more agitated at Belle's lack of response, seeming to vibrate in place with his anger.

"Easy there, Smee." Hook spoke up. "She doesn't know Pan like we do, or of the games he would play."

It didn't work to calm Smee down entirely, the man still red faced with his upset. "Pan is the worst, my lady! Quick to make a victim of us all, you'd best be on guard where that demon imp is concerned."

Belle couldn't stop her curiosity from bubbling up. "Why? What has he done that is so bad?"

"What hasn't he done?!" Smee exclaimed. "Kidnapping, torture, murder, turning Neverland into a place of total terror..."

"We've lost many a crew member to Pan and the dangers of Neverland." added Hook. "To his tricks and traps. It's sometimes been all we can do to survive..."

"And yet you have stayed." Belle noted with an arch of her brow. "Why?" Her gaze narrowed at Hook. "Because you have a monster to kill?"

"Aye because of that." Hook said with a nod of his head.

She eyed him thoughtfully, considering carefully how she wanted to reply to that. She settled on a half truth, giving the pirate a bitter half smile. "That's a noble intention for a pirate." She sipped the warm drink for a second's pause. "The reward offered for it's head must be substantial for you to...dedicate yourself to such a dangerous pursuit."

"Its not money that drives me, and I'm hardly one for noble intentions." Hook answered, the barest hint of some menace darkening his blue gaze.

"Oh?" Belle tried to keep herself calm, not wanting to betray the excitement felt in her at the chance this conversation offered her. "Then what?"

"This vendetta's more personal than anything you might be imagining." Hook told her. "Fame, heroics, money, it all means nothing. The monster's destruction is the only reward I'd want, the only compensation for what it has cost me."

"What it's cost you?" The remains of the stew were completely ignored, Belle staring at Hook in an almost anxious manner. "What is that exactly?" Her eyes briefly glanced at his hook, before flicking back towards his face. "Your hand?"

"Would that my hand was all the monster took from me." Hook all but growled. "But no. What was lost was something infinitely more precious."

She couldn't help but shiver in reaction to the look in Hook's eyes, the dark menace, the hungry desire for vengeance there. "Then...?"

"Her name was Mila." Hook finished for her. "And she was the love of my life. The ONLY love of my life."

"I...I'm sorry." Belle said with sincerity. Hook gave a slight nod of his head back, but otherwise seemed content to not reply at all. "But...vengeance...it cannot be what this Mila would want you to devote your life to."

It was Smee who made a sound, a muffled noise of protest as though he was trying to stop Belle from saying any more. She didn't dare glance at Smee, not with Hook's expression darkening further.

"And what would you know about that?" Hook demanded in a gruff, snarl of a voice. "Have you ever lost anyone, seen them killed before you?!"

"I may not have, but I know what I would feel." Belle answered heatedly. "I wouldn't want my loved ones to waste their life on pursuing revenge. I would want them to focus on healing."

"Healing?" Hook then scoffed. "As if it's easy or even possible."

"Have you even tried?" Belle asked in challenge. "Do you even want to heal?"

"I've followed this course for roughly two hundred years. I'm not about to divert from it for anyone, not my crew, and not even for someone as pretty as you." Hook snapped back, and abruptly got off the bed.

But he didn't leave the alcove, standing instead with his back to Belle. A deep breath was heard, as though Hook was trying to calm himself with it. Belle wisely chose to keep quiet, not trusting that any response she could make wouldn't make the pirate angrier. Smee stood there uncertainly, giving Belle a pleading look before glancing at Hook with a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry." Hook finally said. "The wound Mila's loss dealt me, still stings to this day." He turned to Belle with a bitter expression. "In a lot of ways I feel as raw and torn open now as I did then..."

"That must be a terrible way to live."

"In truth, it's the only way I know how to be." Hook answered. "You asked about what drives me. It's the pain my lady. That gut wrenching loss I suffered, the pain of having her ripped from my life...that hurt is all I know, my revenge as much for myself as it is for Mila."

"Yourself...?" Echoed Belle uncertainly.

"Aye. For without it, I'd have no reason left for living." Hook told her. He said it with real feeling, with such a bleak look coloring his expression, that Belle believed Hook meant every word. Her own heart might have gone out to him just a little, for Belle would have needed to be made of immovable stone not to feel for a person who was reeling from a loss as devastating as the one Hook had suffered. It didn't mean she liked him any better, or the situation she found herself in, but Belle was closer to seeing Hook as something more than a murder minded pirate out for his enemy's blood.

"What happens if you do achieve your revenge?" She asked, uneasily. "Your reason for living...will it change then?"

Hook shrugged, evasive. "It doesn't really matter right now. I'm still a long ways from coming close to destroying my monster."

"Which means we're a long way from leaving this accursed Neverland." Smee muttered unhappily.

"Has it really been about two hundred years?"

"Still having trouble believing?" Hook asked her.

"Not exactly." Belle said. "But with all the time you've spent here...the world outside has changed so much. Kingdoms rising, kingdoms falling. Heroes born, and villains vanquished. Maybe even the monster that you know...is no longer..."

"Alive?" Hook interrupted. "It's an ageless being with no known weaknesses. I've no doubt you've heard of him. The Dark One."

"The Dark One?!" Belle forced herself to respond in fright to the reveal. "That's who you hunt?!"

"I see by your reaction that the Dark One's reputation precedes him."

"Everyone knows of the Dark One." Belle retorted. "And of his deal makings."

Hook glanced at Smee. "What have I always said?"

"The more things change, the more they remain the same." Smee dutifully supplied.

Belle frowned at them both. "The Dark One is dangerous." She forced herself to say. "It's suicide to go after him..."

"He'd see me dead even if I wasn't chasing after his death." Hook told her. "No. He won't tolerate my being alive, anymore than I can tolerate it for him."

"Why?" Belle demanded. "What reason could the Dark One have for wanting you dead so badly? Because you hunt him?"

"Because it was I who had the love of his wife." Hook answered. "And the Dark One couldn't stand the thought of that, or the fact that she had never loved him at all."

"But surely he must have loved her..."

"And that excuses what he did? That justifies being jealous and angry enough to kill a woman for rejecting him?!" Hook demanded angrily. "He didn't even hesitate before acting. Mila had barely gotten out the words, before he was ripping out her heart, and crushing it before her eyes!"

Belle finding herself blinking back tears, just as upset now as she had been the first time she had heard such things from Hook. It wasn't any easier to hear this time, Belle wanting to scream and shout in protest. Because it wasn't the actions of the man she loved that Hook was describing. It couldn't be.

But she couldn't deny the pain that Hook was feeling, or the anger that he showed when speaking about Rumplestiltskin. It was a hard truth to accept, and there was still so much of the story Belle didn't know enough about. What kind of woman had Mila been to have impacted both men so strongly that the ghost of her haunted them even in the present day? And how could love go so wrong, that it left scars on them all?

She didn't know, but Belle was determined to find out. It was why she sat up straighter in the bed, pushing the tray away from her as she told Hook to tell her everything.

To Be Continued...

This chapter gave me all kinds of trouble. This is actually the third attempt...the first attempt got up to 10 KB before I decided it was crap, and started over from scratch. Second attempt only got as far as FOUR paragraphs before I trashed it. I think part of the problem is I wanted a Hook POV, but my gut instinct was saying it HAD to be a Belle POV. All attempts were in Belle's POV, but I was very resistant to the idea when I had my heart set on writing another Hook POV.

But I finally got it finished! But...I liked this until about 15 KB in...then I started struggling again. I also don't imagine Hook telling Belle everything like she asked just yet. But we'll see. I may take a break from this to update another story. I'm really itching to update one of my other Hook Belle fics...particularly the trade off. Plus I feel kinda stuck right this second on how to advance the story to the part when a certain boy who never grew up makes his presence known. I'm really eager to get to Peter Pan's encounter with Belle written. But it's still a ways off as they are very far from the main land at this point and time...

-Michelle

Angelfan984, thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed his chapter! And yes, she is gonna be difficult, but hopefully not too difficult. It's a tough balance perhaps, to get right...X_X

Jewelzy, oh thank you! I'm so glad to hear that! Thank you for everything, it makes me smile so much! And yes, Peter Pan will have a role in the story. I'm actually wondering how to write it without having to give him a POV narration for a chapter or two...

Zerousy, yay! Glad to see you playing catch up. :) And that you liked what you read during it! ^_- Well not to spoil, but Peter Pan will have a part in this story. But I am still a ways off from his introduction.

The Elegant Faerie, youre welcome and thanks in return. :) Actually I don't think it will come out anytime soon..I mean I and Belle have no plans to let Hook know about her connection to his enemy. Actually I have this idea in my head, of much farther in the fic's future, like after Belle feels safe and confidant in her feelings for Hook, and his for her, and she tells him...and he thinks she's off her rocker crazy! XD But it's still a long way from happening writing wise. ^^;; 


End file.
